


Our Little Secret: Lost

by Kerichi



Series: Rose and Scorpius Stories [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Life is what happens to us while we are making other plans., Mystery, Romance, Unhappy Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:11:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8386738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerichi/pseuds/Kerichi
Summary: Scorpius had never looked forward to anything the way he looked forward to leaving Hogwarts with Rose. He planned a holiday with no friends, no family, and nothing to do but be together—until a tampered Portkey changed their destination.





	1. Plans

 

Christmas. His birthday. School holidays. Scorpius Malfoy had never looked forward to anything the way he looked forward to leaving Hogwarts. He’d dreamed about it and made plans so intensively, rumours spread that he was actually swotting for N.E.W.T.s. His friends—the ones who deluded themselves Rose Weasley's "spell" over him would fade once they became lovers—believed he intended to avoid his grandfather by apprenticing to a Potions Master in Wales shortly after returning to London. Scorpius didn't correct anyone's mistaken impression. They helped conceal his true plans.

He had arranged a holiday.

Somewhere he and Rose could be alone. No friends. No family. Nothing to do but be together.

Scorpius resisted the urge to mark the days off his calendar, but was unable to keep from holding a private countdown each evening when he and Rose finished their patrol. He gave her a kiss for each day that remained, making up for the lack of quantity with increased intensity. Imagination gave him loads of ideas that he supplemented with educational reading in the library. Several texts were in the Restricted Section, which made him grateful for his friendship with Irma Filch's son Phineas and his eidetic memory. The books weren't the kind students were allowed to check out.

The escalating "intensity" never overreached the bounds of student conduct, yet as time went on the thought of where their kisses were leading heightened sensuality to an uncomfortable level—not that Scorpius complained.

Two days before N.E.W.T.s, Rose halted in front of Bertha's statue. She raked a hand through long auburn hair that looked dark red in the torchlight. "Maybe we should just say goodnight and go back to our Houses."

"If that's what you want."

Her eyes flashed with blue fire. "Of course it isn't. But it's hard to revise when my brain's melted."

Nice to know he wasn't the only one on edge. "Cold showers work for me."

"The water is from the mountains. It's glacial!"

"That's why it works."

Her lips curved. "Kiss me and I'll try it."

 

The next day, Rose said the cold shower worked brilliantly, and on the morning of the first exam, she glowed with confidence.

"Aren't you going to follow and give her a kiss for good luck?" Orna Bletchley asked when he stopped eating to watch Rose leave the hall. She’d hounded Scorpius for most of seventh year, yet her tone was more curious than sarcastic. It was a mark of her contentment with her new boyfriend, Guy Willoughby.

Scorpius sliced off a bite of melon wrapped in prosciutto. "She doesn't need luck."

Next to Scorpius, his best mate Edgar Goyle set an empty cup down beside his cleared plate. "What about you? Word's gone round you've been revising like a fiend."

"Which kind?"

"Rumour wasn't specific."

Scorpius curled his lip. "Hufflepuffs must have started it. They lack imagination."

Edgar sniggered. "Ravenclaws would've called you an elemental fiend."

"A Dark one," Orna said.

"The best kind." Guy lifted his goblet.

On the other side of Guy, Nathanial Nott scratched his bony chin. "What about Gryffindors?"

"They rank slightly above Hufflepuffs," Guy said.

Over Orna's piercing laughter, Nathanial said, "No, what would they call Scorpius?"

"Depends on the Gryffindor," Edgar said.

Scorpius took a last bite and rose from the table.

In the entry, he heard, "Psst! Malfoy! Over here!"

Lily Potter's voice came from the direction of the room first-years waited in to be Sorted. Scorpius entered and found a wand pointed at his throat.

"Tell me the truth," Lily said. "Have you been swotting for N.E.W.T.s?"

"No."

She lowered her wand. "Are you planning to sweep my cousin away someplace wildly romantic when you leave Hogwarts?"

"Yes."

"Yes!" Lily’s brown eyes sparkled. "I'm glad I don't have to hex you."

"So am I."

She giggled.

 

A few hours later, Scorpius earned a perfect score on his Transfiguration N.E.W.T. and exited to find Albus Potter waiting. "I can't give you tips," Scorpius said. "It isn't allowed."

Albus straightened from propping up the wall. "We need to talk."

They left the corridor and went downstairs. Albus led the way to a side courtyard where he said, "Rose tells me you're keeping your plans a secret. I need to know what they are."

"You? Or your aunt and uncle?"

"Both. And my parents," Albus said wryly. "Only my sister is content that you’ve picked someplace romantic."

"That isn't enough for everyone else?"

"It might be," Albus said, "If we knew it was somewhere safe and, erm, had _protection_." His green gaze was apologetic. “You’ve only been with Rose since Easter holiday. That isn’t long enough for the family to give you their complete trust.”

"She’ll be protected." He was taking care of the travel arrangements, Rose, the birth control potion.

Albus checked his watch. "Right, well, I don't want to keep the examiners waiting."

"If you want to impress, make whatever they ask you to conjure the biggest you can in as many multiples possible." Scorpius shrugged. "That isn't a tip, just an observation."

"A helpful one. Thanks."

 

That evening, Rose shared the triumphs of her day and then gave Scorpius a mock glare. "You breezed through every test, didn't you? No stress, no worries."

He held up his hand with the back facing her. "Look at my fingernails and say that."

Rose's sympathetic expression quickly faded. "You clipped your nails, you didn't bite them!"

Scorpius's grin became a full out laugh when her fingers poked his sides, ruthlessly tickling. "I admit it," he said, "I'm sorry.  _Ab imo pectore_. From the bottom of my heart." He captured her hands and kissed them. "Have mercy."

"Oh, all right, since you asked nicely."

They held hands during their patrol, and afterward shared long, deep kisses.

 

On the morning the Hogwarts Express was due to take them to London, Scorpius got up early to meet Rose behind their favourite statue. "We're going to the station, but we're not getting on the train."

"What are we going to do?"

"Use a Portkey."

"I have to tell Lily," she said. "Otherwise Albus and Hugo will stop the train."

"Good idea." He explained that Phineas Filch would owl their parents his letters explaining why they wouldn't be at King's Cross.

Her cheeks flushed pink. "This is really happening."

"Any second thoughts?"

"None.”

 

At the station, concealed by a Disillusionment Charm, he felt Rose's hand tremble in his as the Express vanished in the distance. "This way," he whispered, guiding her down the path toward the village. A few metres in, he stopped and became visible. Rose did the same.

Scorpius took the Portkey out of his rucksack. It was a bracelet of braided tin thread and black leather.

"You hold one side, I'll take the other," Scorpius said. Their knuckles rubbed against each other.

"The clasp button, what's it made of?" Rose asked.

He checked his watch. "I'll tell you in few minutes."

"The Portkey's timed, then?"

Before he could answer, the Portkey activated, sweeping them up into a whirlwind of magic.

 

They landed on a cushion of sand—Scorpius's first hint they were far from the intended destination. The sun's warmth and a tang of salt in the air confirmed it.

Rose's hand still clutched the bracelet. "Where are we?" she asked.

"Not in Lapland." He touched the button. "This is reindeer horn. We're supposed to stay with the tribe that made this, go river rafting, hike a mountain, and sleep in an Ice House the Sami wizards created just for us."

"The Christmas memory you use to cast a Patronus."

"I wanted you to share it." He flung out an arm to encompass the palm-fringed beach and crystalline water. "Not _this."_

"What do you think happened?"

Scorpius admired her calm. He'd lost his the instant reality sank in. "Grandfather discovered what I was up to and paid the slimy git running the Portkey Office more than I did." He dragged off his rucksack and knelt in the sand.

Rose looked over his shoulder. "Do you have a return Portkey in there?"

"No. Our guide, Lars Balto, was arranging that. I'm looking for the letter Edgar probably hid while I was taking a shower." Lucius Malfoy was too Slytherin not to gloat. After checking the hidden pockets, Scorpius removed a Quidditch Illustrated magazine and shook the pages. An envelope fluttered out.

Scorpius damned his grandfather and broke the seal.


	2. Villa

 

Rose knelt beside Scorpius as he opened the letter. The island—what she could see—was so beautiful it was hard to imagine Lucius Malfoy using it in a scheme to break them up. She said, "We're together. Nothing your grandfather says or does will change that."

"I know." Scorpius held out the message:

**Lapland wouldn't provide the togetherness you seem to crave, so I took the liberty of altering your destination. Virgin Solitario is Unplottable, a retreat for Knights who take pleasure in nature and quietude. You'll find a return Portkey at the hilltop villa. Enjoy an illuminating week's stay.**

The Portkey would activate in a week, a short enough time to keep her family from worrying over the lack of postcards, hopefully. "Virgin Solitario. We're in the Caribbean?"

"British Virgin Islands, I'd say."

"It's lovely."

"It's an insult. Grandfather thinks we'll get bored and fight." Scorpius shook his head. "He's off his broomstick. I'll never get tired of being with you."

The look he gave her caused Rose's heart to beat faster—and not entirely because she wanted to kiss him and never stop. Part of it was apprehension. She had something to tell and dreaded his reaction. "The hilltop villa sounds nice," she said, eager to postpone confession. "Let's find it."

Scorpius's smile made her face heat. Did he think she wanted him to sweep her off her feet and into the nearest bedroom?

While her imagination played out the scene, he chanted two spells. Instantly, the air turned balmy. "Sun protection and cooling charms," Scorpius said. "I'd rather prevent a burn than soothe one."

"That's thoughtful. Did you learn the charms from your mother?"

"Father. He said Malfoys don't tan."

Couldn't tan, or didn't because it was plebeian? Rose believed the first explanation. Draco Malfoy wasn't the snob he'd been before the war.

"Are you disappointed?" Scorpius asked.

He'd misread her silence. She said the first thing that came to mind. "No, your body is pale and perfect."

Her honesty earned a kiss that made Rose ache.

Scorpius's lips curved. "Do you want to hear what I think of your body?"

Merlin help her. "Yes."

Grey eyes smouldered. "I'll tell you after we reach the villa."

She picked up her rucksack feeling guilty, yet hopeful. They'd work things out somehow.

Scorpius shouldered his own featherlight pack and used a spell to transform the letter into an origami butterfly. "Grandfather demands the last word. He wouldn't be able to resist leaving us another note. This one will lead us to it."

The "butterfly" fluttered along the white-sanded beach and eventually veered to the right, toward the base of a cliff and the beginning of a trail. Rose stared in dismay. The staircases of Hogwarts hadn't prepared her for this, which was what Lucius counted on, no doubt. He expected her to complain and  _illuminate_ his grandson on why he needed a different girlfriend.

Scorpius said, "Wait here. I'll Apparate back when I reach the top."

And let him think she wasn't physically fit? "No, just give me a few seconds to change." She transfigured her jeans into cotton shorts and strode ahead to prove her intrepidness—and to hide her face in case it got sweaty and red from exertion.

Rose marched up the trail; gaze focused on the butterfly, until Scorpius touched her arm.

"Look at that." He pointed to a black bird hovering above the ocean. "A magnificent frigatebird by the scapular feathers."

The area where upper wings met the body gleamed iridescent purple. "Stunning." She meant the entire view. The ocean seemed endless, aqua hues melding into darker waters. Clouds drifted along the pale blue horizon. Rose breathed in the scent of sea and flowers. "Thank you. I was missing out on the beauty around us."

"You're welcome, but I acted in self-interest. I needed a rest."

His teasing brought out her cheeky side. "Lead the way if you want to go slow."

Scorpius's gaze turned smoky. "We've done that. I'm ready to reach our destination."

"All right." She resumed the upward march thinking he'd matched her cheek and raised her a double entendre.

Scorpius's hand captured hers. "I wasn't pressuring you. There's no hurry."

"I know." If they weren't on a narrow path she would've thrown herself into his arms. "I love you."

"And I love you."

They held hands the rest of the way and shared a kiss and a conjured goblet of water at the top of the hill. The butterfly flitted around them and then winged over a field of tall grass wind and sun had transformed into a verdant river. Rose plunged in, pushing aside the tufted blades in wide strokes. "We're swimming!"

Beside her, Scorpius chuckled. "Don't get carried away."

Laughter spilled from her throat. That was exactly how she felt, swept away by emotion. It was liberating. She looked back at the waves of grass once they'd reached a bank of shady trees and said, "We've crossed the Rubicon."

"The Rubicon?"

Embarrassment set in. "A Muggle expression. The grass was like a river and . . . I got carried away."

"I like it."

He was giving her that look again, the one that made her hot and shivery at the same time. She dragged her eyes away. "Where's the butterfly?"

"There."

It flitted between two trees.

"Breadfruit," Scorpius said. "There's a couple hanging from the tips of the branches."

She saw the round green fruit. "Does it grow wild on the islands?"

"No, it's cultivated, so the villa should be nearby."

They walked further into the grove that proved to be a mix of breadfruit, papaya, mango, and other trees Scorpius said he couldn't identify because he'd skimmed the flora and fauna chapter in his book on the Caribbean. He'd been more interested in reading about pirates.

"Fifteen men on a dead man's chest, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum?" Granddad Granger liked to sing that song when he'd been reading Treasure Island or watching pirate films.

"Something like that." Scorpius sounded distracted.

They had reached the end of the grove. Beyond were trees heavy with scarlet flowers and a strange expanse of bare ground. "Oh," she said. "There's a Concealment Charm on the villa. Will  _Finite Incantatem_  reveal it?"

"Let's find out."

They took out their wands.

The force of the counter spell caused the air to shimmer. The villa appeared.

At first glance, it was a luxurious example of Caribbean architecture: sloping roofs and a wraparound veranda in native stone. Only as they got closer did the true condition become apparent.

Fire had ravaged the villa.

Ash-black walls and charred furnishings were visible through the open doorways and gaping holes of shattered windows. The scene reminded her of an Auror mystery novel, except for the parchment butterfly soaring down the veranda.

"It doesn't seem like an act of nature," Rose said. "Lightning would've caused more damage, and the fire's heat should have blown glass outside, too."

Scorpius gestured for her to go before him. "Perhaps Grandfather's note will explain."

The front veranda was circular with a 180-degree view of the ocean in the distance. The butterfly rested on a black trunk, the only object in the space.

Rose remained a few metres away while Scorpius undid the straps.

"There was a security ward." He shook his fingers as if they were numb or tingling. "Grandfather takes no chances." He lifted the lid and pulled out a massive green hammock, a rectangular tin, and a letter he gave to Rose. "You do the honours."

She broke the wax seal with the edge of a fingernail and unfolded the parchment, standing close to Scorpius so they could both read:

**You're so fond of our garden hammock I thought I'd send this one for your pleasure. The tin is the Portkey, spelled to activate at noon on the seventh day. The lembas inside will provide sustenance if you are disinclined to fish or forage.**

"He doesn't know what's happened here," Scorpius said.

Rose agreed. Lucius would have made a sly comment about them roughing it. She scanned the note again. "Lembas. That's from  _Lord of the Rings,_ bread made by elves."

"Mother speculated Tolkien's wife was a witch." Scorpius opened the tin.

Rose broke off a piece from one of the brownish cakes and found it was cream-coloured on the inside exactly as described in the books.

"Go ahead. Taste it."

She took a bite and offered the rest to Scorpius.

His lips grazed her fingertips. "Sweet."

"Mmm." If things were different, she'd lick the tiny crumb off the corner of his mouth and suggest they hang the hammock. "Do you want to walk around the villa, check if any rooms are undamaged?" The instant the words dropped out, Rose wished she could catch and stuff them back in. She hadn't meant  _bedrooms_  when she said "rooms," at least not consciously.

Scorpius didn't act like what she said had double meaning. He stored the tin and their rucksacks in the trunk and strolled with her to the side of the house they hadn't seen yet.

Glass glittered on stone.

Rose said, "Someone inside cast an  _Incendio_ through these windows, went out, and aimed more into the house? Why? Were they drunk?"

"Or angry."

_Very angry._  "I don't understand why the villa didn't burn to the ground."

"Malfoy Manor has protective wards that activate sprinklers. This place likely does as well. What puzzles me is that the damage wasn't repaired. Slytherins value appearances."

Rose had an idea. "If the Knights of Walpurgis own the island as a group, the person responsible might not have told in order to avoid paying." Not every wizard supremacist could be rich as a Malfoy.

"Perhaps." Scorpius gestured toward the far end of the veranda. "Let's walk down there. Behind the wall should be a courtyard."

She was curious over the note of anticipation in his voice. "Do you think we'll find furniture that isn't burnt?"

"Something better."

Her naughty imagination supplied the mental image of a private entrance to a magically undamaged master suite. If that was the case, Rose wasn't sure how she'd react. Laugh? Cry? Hex herself?

When she stepped down from the veranda into the courtyard, Scorpius said, "Look," and directed her gaze to a section of curved stone.

Rose sighed.

Private, yet open to the sky, the outdoor shower was clearly meant for two. There was even a cosy bench.

Scorpius wrapped his arms around her. "I think this could be even better than the holiday I planned. We'll set up the hammock on the front veranda and use this if none of the inside baths are intact." He kissed her deeply. "Grandfather was right. Togetherness is what I crave."

His lips returned to hers, and only when their increasingly sensual embrace edged toward a line she couldn't cross did Rose draw back. "I want to be with you, too. So much I wish I could turn back time and . . . ."

"What?"

"Buy birth control potion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Legend has it that Blackbeard marooned fifteen men on a cay named Dead Chest with only a bottle of rum. I was tempted to have Lucius send along a bottle of rum so I could have Rose think the second line to the song, Drink and the devil had done for the rest, yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum, but I couldn't see him wanting Scorpius drunk and happy, so I left it out.


	3. Island

 

_But we planned . . . . You offered . . . ._

"What happened?" Scorpius asked as calmly as possible. Rose seemed on the edge of tears, and making her cry wouldn't change the situation.

She released a shaky breath. "Students can't buy birth control at the apothecary in Hogsmeade, and I was afraid if I ordered it by post the story would end up in the  _Intruder,_ or the potion would be detected at school somehow."

"You should have told me." He would have paid the apothecary to hand over the merchandise at the train station.

"I never dreamed we'd end up in a place like this. I intended to take care of things. I promise!"

He believed her. It didn't make the disappointment less bitter.

"I should have acted like a Gryffindor and not cared who found out. I'm sorry."

He couldn't say it was all right. She would hear the lie in his voice. Scorpius shrugged. "We wait a little longer, that's all."

"Seven days. Ten thousand and eighty minutes. Six hundred and four thousand, eight hundred seconds. I did the math when I realised I was going to be your girlfriend over Easter holiday." Her gaze beseeched. "Look how wonderful that turned out."

He glanced at the overhead rainfall shower.

Rose had similar thoughts. She said, "We can still share . . . experiences, just in different . . . ." Her cheeks flushed when he arched a brow. "You know what I mean!"

"Do I?"

"If you don't—" Her snappish look became naughty. "I'll be happy to show you."

Water poured down on his head.

Scorpius used a nonverbal charm of his own. Rose's eyes rounded as magic propelled her into his arms.

"Oh! It isn't cold."

"It is for a sub-tropical island." He brushed wet tendrils away from her face. "Did that make you happy?"

"No. You do."

He responded in the only way possible. He kissed her.

Love. Frustration. Tenderness. Need. Words couldn't express the tumult of emotions he felt. Their kisses were wet and hot, the friction of clothing against drenched skin heightened arousal.

Rose's arms tightened around his neck. "Maybe we can conjure prophylactics."

"Those Muggle things?" He could conjure items out of thin air, but not without an exact idea of what they were. "I've never seen one."

"I watched a commercial for them on Nana Granger's telly once." Rose countered the water charm to end the shower. A square foil packet appeared between her fingers.

Scorpius appraised it curiously. "Is it supposed to be flat?"

"I think so." Rose held it out. "Do you want to open it?"

He did for many reasons—the foremost to gain knowledge in order to conjure them himself. He carefully tore the top off and looked inside. "It's empty."

Rose's face fell. "Oh no. I hoped because I'd seen the packaging the, erm, contents would materialise too."

"A reasonable assumption." He vanished the foil with a disdainful flick of his fingers. Whatever fit into a tiny square wouldn't have been usable anyway.

She sighed. "I suppose we should change."

He liked the way her clothing hugged her body—and the transparency of her shirt and bra. He cast a spell. White tee and blue shorts transformed into a bikini. Her trainers became hiking sandals.

Hands on hips, Rose asked, "Was this the suit that model wore on the cover of  _Quidditch Illustrated_?"

"I imagined you wearing it." The fantasies about making love with Rose on the beach he'd confess at a more appropriate time: when they made them a reality.

The mischievous glint reappeared in her eyes. "I've imagined you in swimwear, too."

His shirt disappeared and his jeans changed to blue swim trunks with a white hibiscus design on the left leg. His sandals were the masculine version of hers. Scorpius hid a smile. "We coordinate. What would Hugo say?"

"Who cares? I say we're a perfect match."

"I agree." He conjured a beach towel woven from Egyptian cotton.

Rose sighed when he dried her off. "My nerve endings never go crazy when I do this."

"Thank you."

She giggled, which made him chuckle. Their laugher diffused the tension and made it slightly easier to ignore his body's reaction when she took the towel and dried his body.

"We should clear the glass off the veranda so we can walk bare-footed," he said as the towel grazed his inner thigh. He took a step back—away from temptation.

"Yes, yes, we should." Rose's voice was soft. Sexy.

He needed a distraction. " _Evanesco_ is standard, yet  _Abluo_ would wash the veranda clean, and  _Purgo_  would also clear the mess away."

"We use  _Verro_ at home to sweep the floors."

Scorpius said, "Let's try them all."

In the end, they decided  _Evanesco_ followed by  _Abluo_  was the most effective combination. Scorpius and Rose used the spells to clean the entire veranda and then returned to the front section.

"Two of the middle posts have chains," Rose said. "The hammock must have been stored inside the villa."

Scorpius examined the posts to ensure they didn't have cracks or splits before attaching the steel "S" hooks at the ends of the chain to the hanging points on the hammock. There was more than enough room on each side to get in and out and sufficient clearance above the floor. He bent to unfasten his sandals.

"You want to try it out? Good idea."

He heard the nervousness in Rose's overly casual tone. Did she think he wanted to share one of those "different" experiences she'd mentioned right that instant? To be honest, he did, but it was more important for her to be ready.

Even so, he couldn't resist asking, "Which way would you like to try, horizontal or perpendicular?"

"Ah—perpendicular, I guess."

Scorpius moved to her side of the hammock. Once they sat side by side, he leaned back and lifted his feet. Rose did the same and gasped when the hammock stretched beneath them. He turned to face her. "This was hand-woven by Mayan elves. It accommodates every position."

"Really?"

No amount of willpower could keep his lips from twitching.

Rose's gaze narrowed. "I'm thrilled to hear it because I'm a restless sleeper." She sat up and used her feet to jolt the hammock into motion. "Sometimes I rock back and forth to soothe myself." She plopped down, causing a wave-like ripple, and then rolled over to slam against his side and fling her arm and leg over him. "And I never stay on one side of the bed."

"Promise?"

Rose snogged his breath away. "I promise."

After testing the hammock's stability by kissing in several positions, they decided to investigate the villa and then go pick fruit in the grove. Scorpius opened the trunk and took two Sneakoscopes out of his rucksack. The small one he gave to Rose. The larger one he placed in the middle of the hammock. "These detect animals as well as people."

"Is that a concern?"

"Probably not. Aside from lizards and birds, the only wildlife we're likely see is a mongoose. They were brought to the islands in the 1800's."

"So you're worried about what the Knights may have imported."

She'd seen through his casual tone as easily as he'd seen through hers. Scorpius said, "It's Father's influence. He's constantly vigilant about safety."

"My dad's the same."

His hand tingled: the after-effect of a wizard handshake. "I remember." He looked toward the double French doors leading into the villa. The glass panes were the only ones left intact. An oversight?

Rose asked, "What do you think, should we go in or use the glass to scry?"

"Scry." Grandfather wasn't the type to ask permission—he didn't believe in giving others the power to say no—which meant fellow Knights were unaware of their visit. Scorpius meant to keep it that way.

She tapped the glass with her wand and said, " _Video._ " Individual panes misted over and then cleared to reflect rooms in the villa. Rose made a noise of distress. "The bathrooms are destroyed."

Scorpius realised why she was upset. "I'll take care of it." He led the way to the courtyard with the shower and moved the bench to an empty spot against the opposite wall. "My father did this whenever we went camping. Our tent's bathroom was fully fitted, but not up to his standards." A Transfiguration spell transformed the bench into a private water closet. "I'm going to take another look into the house."

There was nothing new to see, no clues to the arsonist's identity or motivation.

"Thank you. I was considering making a run for the nearest tree." Rose crossed the veranda and gave him a hug. "Malfoys camping. It's hard to imagine. Was it during a Quidditch World Cup?"

"No." Scorpius had asked and was told that former enemies—on both sides of the war—would do them harm if given the chance. "We camped in the woods next to a stream . . . on our estate." Far enough away not to be in view of the manor and yet remain protected by security wards _._

Rose said, "The only time we camped was in the paddock behind the Burrow or beside Shell Cottage. Dad said Aurors had to guard us if we went to a public park."

"Did you ever pick fruit from the neighbour's orchard?"

"I did."

"Then you can teach me."

None of the breadfruit was ripe. The skins were shiny green instead of matte and flecked with brown. The papayas, long and yellowish-orange, were ready to eat. Since the trees were young, they easily reached the fruit without a ladder.

After a lunch of buttery-sweet papaya and lembas, Rose suggested exploring to see if there was a shorter route to the beach. Before they left, Scorpius placed granite pebbles from his rucksack at different points around the veranda.

"Are those runes?"

"Only this one." He gave her a stone carved with the  _Thorn_ symbol.

"Thor's hammer of protection."

"It activates an Aversion Charm." Scorpius set it in place. "We won't feel the effects."

"But creepy-crawlies will?"

That was one way to put it. He nodded and reached for her hand.

 

As Scorpius suspected, the path they'd taken from the beach was a more arduous route than the one on the opposite side of the villa. They followed a gently sloping path down to an emerald lagoon and used Bubble-Head charms to swim underwater and enjoy the colourful fish and marine life of the reef.

Later, Rose dragged him down the shoreline to hunt for shells. He found a few specimens worth keeping and stored them with Rose's growing collection. Into his own bag, Scorpius put sand. When he gathered enough, he told Rose about the "No-See-Ums" that plagued island beaches in the afternoons; the insects' bites raised bumps like mosquitoes.

Rose agreed they should return to the villa.

Once she gathered her things to take a shower, Scorpius got to work.

He used an  _Incido_ charm to slice into the hard-packed ground and create a magical perimeter around the villa. Then he sprinkled sand along the boundary line.

"I would have helped if you'd asked." Rose, wearing a blue sundress that almost matched the colour of her eyes, stepped off the veranda near the front door and walked over. "The sand's black. An  _Incendio_  spell?"

" _Accendo._ It's more humane. Intent predicates the result."

Rose didn't have to be told that if a lizard crawled across the line, a harmless burst of light would send it scuttling away, while flash fire would blaze if something approached that intended harm. She looked past him to the trees. "What do you fear is out there?"

"Nothing, I hope, but when it gets dark I want there to be more than mosquito netting and an Aversion Charm protecting us."

"Your father's influence again?"

"Grandfather's. He said just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you."

"How cheery."

"It was, actually. I was six and kept having nightmares about a ghoul." Scorpius tried to smile. "It turned out to be a boggart that escaped from the attic to hide in my wardrobe."

She looked sympathetic. "No wonder you cast the  _Riddikulus_ charm on the first try at school."

"Impressed, were you?" He didn't tell her Lucius used a different spell—one that caused new nightmares.

"Very much." Rose tickled his side. "Go ahead and laugh!"

He took her hand and kissed it. "Thank you."

Scorpius took a shower in view of a magnificent sunset and returned to a veranda enclosed by mosquito netting. He pushed aside one of the overlapping side panels and saw Rose standing beside a conjured table for two with a softly glowing orb in her hands. "You said I could sort through your rucksack. This looked useful."

"Yellow has a deficiency of ultraviolet energy. It's less attractive to insects." The lack of blue light was unflattering to most complexions, but not hers. Scorpius glanced at the table. "Lembas and papaya. My favourite."

Twilight slipped into dusk as they talked about the places they'd been on holiday and different foods they'd tried, which dishes they'd trade lembas for, and which ones they would not, even if someone paid them Galleons. Nightfall brought the evening trade winds and the scent of flowers and spice.

"It's so dark." Rose peered at the blackness beyond the netting. "I bet the sky is amazing."

They went outside and gazed upward, marvelling that there were so many stars it was a challenge to pick out constellations. A flicker of light—a gecko or "creepy-crawly" attempting to cross the magical boundary—reminded Scorpius of the possible danger. He suggested they return to the veranda.

"I am a little sleepy," she said.

They changed on opposite sides of the dimly lit space. Rose said, "You don't have to wear pyjamas for me. Underwear trunks are almost the same as swim trunks."

No, they weren't, but he didn't argue. He unbuttoned his trousers.

"I'm ready . . . are you?"

Her husky whisper sped up his heart rate. If he slept at all, it would be a miracle.

Not that he cared.

Scorpius placed his folded clothing into the trunk. "I'm ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When you're on a holiday, you can't find the words to say, all the things that come to you . . . .  
> Weezer's Island in the Sun kept running through my head (anyone who hasn't ever heard it is invited to look it up on youtube :) Hip, hip.
> 
> If anyone's interested in Halloween stories, I have two posted: Kreacher Feature (young Lily and Kreacher) and Kill Me Again, Sam (Auror Trainee Tonks).


	4. Mystery

 

Rose stood frozen in place. She shouldn't have watched him undress. Now she worried that the orb casting a golden sheen over Scorpius's body would reveal the effect he had on hers.

Her white camisole was sheer, originally meant to wear briefly, if at all.

"Talk to me," he said.

Oh, Merlin, she was staring like a deer transfixed by wand-lights. "It's this outfit," she said. "It makes me self-conscious."

"Then change."

"I don't want to." The truth slipped out and gave her the boldness to take a step and then another, and another, until she was in his arms and all that mattered was showing Scorpius how much she loved him. Ardent kisses lengthened, becoming sensual and deep. Her hands roamed over his chest while his stroked down to cup her backside. She shivered as his fingers traced the edge of her thong.

"I'm glad you didn't change."

So was she, although the brush of his fingertips across sensitive skin made it hard to breathe.

"Tell me if you're uncomfortable."

"I'm melting." She gathered her nerve and reached down to grab his arse. "And it's so comfortable I'm going to need a cold shower." When he started to draw away, her fingernails dug in. "Later."

Later, they discovered that a shower didn't lower their temperatures until they stopped kissing and touching and looked at the sky instead of each other.

The planet Jupiter glittered against a backdrop of stars in the Sagittarius constellation. Rose used a spell to dry herself and remarked that the "Archer" looked more like a teapot with a handle and spout. She asked, "The bright star to the west of Jupiter—isn't that part of the scorpion?"

"Antares, the heart of Scorpius. Appropriately rose-coloured."

She returned his smile. "Will you tell me the myth as a bedtime story?"

"Instead of Beatrix Potter?"

She remembered a night of cuddling on her parents' sofa. "Whatever you choose. I've always loved your voice."

Scorpius picked up the illumination orb and gestured for her to lead the way. "You didn't first year when Professor Blackwell called on me to recite 101 magical herbs and fungi. You scowled the entire time."

"Because I couldn't do it."

He reached out to part the mosquito netting. "I was trying to prove I wasn't my father. I did the required reading."

"Oh," Rose said in a small voice. "I thought you were showing off."

Scorpius chuckled. "That, too."

In the hammock, lying at an angle allowed for better distribution of the weight concentrated in the centre as they snuggled together, he told her the myth of Orion, the prideful hunter vanquished by a scorpion that eternally chased him across the heavens as a warning to mortals.

The satisfaction in his tone amused Rose. Scorpius probably saw Orion as a Greek Gryffindor and the scorpion as Slytherin. She asked, "What about the archer hovering nearby, ready to shoot?"

"Chiron was a healer elevated to the stars for his goodness. It's a pose, not a threat."

"The same could be said about the scorpion."

"It could—by those who dare the consequences."

Her stomach fluttered. "What consequences?"

Before she found out, light flared, blue and startling. Another brief flash lit the darkness beyond the foot of the hammock. They scrambled to retrieve their wands.

Sparks continued to appear and fade.

"Always from the same place," Scorpius said. "Something's determined to get in."

"The Sneakoscopes are quiet. Whatever's out there isn't trying to be deceptive."

"Then it will be easy to locate." Scorpius aimed his wand at Rose. Her nightwear altered to black. "You were too visible."

She could say the same, yet wasn't about to change his hair and skin. There was an easier way.

"Disillusionment Charms. Good thinking." Scorpius's unseen hand clasped hers. They left the veranda.

Rose kept her wand extended toward the flickers of blue. She didn't expect anything that size would do them harm, but she could almost hear Aunt Luna say,  _That's to their advantage, isn't it? All the Dark creatures like Nargles. No one notices them until they've crawled into an ear canal, and then it's too late._

Light blazed again.

" _Petrificus Totalus!"_ Rose cried.

Scorpius said, " _Lumos"_ and aimed the narrow beam at the ground directly in front of them.

Lizards sprawled in a heap.

"Like lemmings," Rose said. "Throwing themselves at the line instead of over a cliff. Could light have drawn them?"

"Like moths?" Scorpius released her hand. "Ground lizards forage for insects by climbing rocks, not each other."

The bodies rose into the air.

"What are you doing?" Rose asked. The  _Mobilicorpus_ spell transported the lizards a few metres away instead of to the underbrush.

"An experiment." His wand tip lowered to lines carved into dirt. "This is a Rune of Summoning. We're testing the strength."

Rose held her wand ready.

The moment Scorpius cast a counter charm, one tiny striped lizard dashed forward while the rest crept away. Rose knelt, stretched a hand across the boundary to cover the rune, and gasped when the lizard hopped onto her palm. She'd never held one before. It felt dry and cool against her skin. She lifted her hand and pointed her wand at the ground. She wanted to destroy the remains of the summoning spell, not its victim. " _Deletrius!"_

The lizard stayed put, even when she flattened her hand on the ground a short distance from where the rune had been. Gently, Rose dumped it off.

It scuttled to the boundary line.

_Flash!_

"I should have pointed it away from the house," Rose said. "The light isn't scaring it."

"No, it isn't. Move to the left."

Was he implying the charm had transferred to her? She stepped to the side.

The lizard followed.

_Flash! Flash!_

Rose picked up the lizard before it rushed the barrier again. "Poor thing, who did this to you? And why were you the only one that stayed enchanted?"

"Turn it over."

She tucked her wand under an arm and carefully flipped the lizard. It remained oddly passive and didn't wriggle or try to escape.

There was a mark on its underbelly.

"I'd lick a finger and rub it off," she said, "but I'd have to use a Sanitising Spell first, and that has a nasty aftertaste." Rose didn't tell how she knew. Some of the childhood "adventures" Lily and Hugo had talked her into were better left unshared.

A white handkerchief materialised.

"I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty," Scorpius said. "I think this is blood, and I want to test to see what kind."

Once he wiped the lizard clean Rose set it down. "Go home."

It turned like a marionette yanked by strings.

She snatched the lizard up to save it from another blast of light. "What are we going to do with you?"

"Keep it as a pet—at least until the spell wears off."

Rose headed for the veranda. "First one to the house decides the name."

The area between her shoulder blades prickled until she ducked beneath the protective screen of mosquito netting.

Scorpius was right behind her. "Either you came up with a brilliant name or there's something you need to tell me in private."

It was so good to see his face. Rose said, "The mark on Izzie's belly. He—or she—was chosen to amplify the Summoning Charm. Why?"

"Random selection. Whim."

"Or Izzy was already someone's pet."

A frown creased his brow. "I'd never risk Felix like that."

She didn't embarrass him saying of course he wouldn't, he loved his Niffler. "Maybe the person we're dealing with didn't see it as a risk. I put my hand down on impulse."

Scorpius petted Izzy with a fingertip. "If you hadn't, our friend here would have scurried off with the others." He shot her a questioning glance. "You think a homing spell will activate?"

"Eventually."

His expression grew steely. "We'll use it to track—"

"No!" Confrontation could provoke violence. "We'll send a message."

Scorpius went along with her plan, but he scowled when Izzy darted away with a spell-shrunk note tied around his middle. "I still don't understand why 'Leave us alone' couldn't have been added after 'We aren't Knights, we mean no harm'."

"It implies  _or else_. It's a threat and we want peace."

"I want to keep you safe."

She rose up on tiptoes to kiss him. "We'll protect each other."

They decided to take turns staying awake while the other slept—or pretended to sleep, in her case, thanks to an imagination that vividly pictured Scorpius's expression as he watched over her. To distract her mind from thinking about all the things they could do without needing birth control, Rose asked, "What kind of person living on a remote island burns down the only house?"

"An angry one. We discussed that before. You're supposed to be sleeping."

"I'm getting there, my eyelids are closed, and discussion is extended communication, not a single question and answer. Even if it were, this question is different, about the person, not motivation."

Scorpius's lips brushed her ear. "Personal character dictates actions. You can't separate them," he whispered.

Rose shivered. "I just meant do you believe it's a Knight—"

"With a pet lizard?"

She tried to picture Lucius Malfoy carrying Izzy on his shoulder. "No, I suppose not."

Scorpius shifted in the hammock, the side of his body pressing hers. "I believe whoever's out there was deliberately stranded as punishment. A cheating wife. Embezzling employee. Disobedient son."

"A victim."

"Who might displace their anger onto us."

Rose opened her eyes. "I'm not worried. We'll protect each other, remember?" She cupped a hand around his nape and drew his head down to hers.

 

In the morning, she awoke to see Scorpius standing beside the hammock. He wore black swim trunks and held a cup. "A culinary experiment," he said. "Mango tea."

Tea of any kind sounded lovely. She sat up. The drink looked more like a smoothie. "What's in it?"

"Mango. Coconut milk. Green tea."

The confidence in his tone faded at the last ingredient. The one he'd conjured instead of transformed from fresh. Rose used a nonverbal cooling charm and sipped. "Yummy." She held out the cup. "Try it."

He drank. "If there's tea, I can't taste any."

"I can."

"Hmmm."

His lower lip pouted slightly. She smiled at how kissable it made him appear. "I love it, and it will be amazing with lembas. You'll see."

If the drink wasn't quite amazing with the elf bread, it was good, and over breakfast she and Scorpius came up with variations they'd enjoy conjuring. Afterward, she changed into a bikini and they went down to the beach.

At first, it was hard to relax when she knew someone could be stalking them. As the hours passed and nothing jumped out along a trail or attacked them on the beach or in the water, Rose began to consider the situation from their watcher's point of view. If she'd been deserted—possibly abused—would she trust any person who showed up and claimed to mean no harm?

Not bloody likely.

When she told Scorpius, he conceded her point and agreed that continuing to act like holiday-goers was the best plan. If they met Izzy's friend, it would be because he or she was ready to talk.

They went to the house for lunch and spent the afternoon exploring the higher elevations on the island. The views were worth all the sweat and dust that coated her skin. On the way back, they stopped by the orchard and picked mangoes.

Scorpius announced that he would conjure chilled mango soup for dinner, so she graciously took the first shower to allow him to work culinary magic. As she washed her hair, Rose hummed a song off the Orpheus Orb she'd packed with the thought of slow-dancing with her lover. She decided to bring it out and give it a spin after dinner.

She was pulling on a sleeveless sundress when a movement caught her eye—a lizard crawled across the courtyard stones. "Izzy! Are you carrying a message?" She leaned down to pick him up and the air shimmered with magic. She instantly changed her plans. Dinner and dancing would have to wait.

Rose was summoned elsewhere.

 


	5. Fear

 

It didn't take Scorpius long to make the soup. The recipe was almost identical to the morning's concoction. Instead of tea, he used mint. A stasis spell kept the bowls chilled while he tried to decide what to wear.

All his clothing was well tailored, but he needed an outfit that showed he'd made an effort because he wanted the night to be special—one he and Rose would never forget. He considered the Muggle-style tuxedo ordered especially for their holiday. The shirt and trousers without the formal jacket and tie were what he was looking for. He laid out the clothes.

He cast  _Orchideus_ for a bouquet to decorate the table and then conjured a single red rose. His dilemma was what to do with it. Place it on the hammock? Put it on the table? Scorpius decided to present it to Rose when she returned. Set the mood for the night. He sat and waited, then stretched out on the hammock. Restlessness drove him to climb out and pace the veranda. Why was Rose taking so long?

Impatience became concern. She could have slipped and fallen in the shower. He used a  _Sonorous_  charm. "Rose!"

She didn't answer.

He Apparated.

Nothing prepared him for the sight of an empty courtyard. She wasn't in the toilet, and her silvery high heels remained carefully placed at the edge of the veranda. If she'd gone for a walk, she was barefoot. Vulnerable to the bite or sting of anything that slithered or crawled.

" _Rose!"_

Scorpius searched the gardens. There was no trace. He sprinted to the veranda. He'd packed a Trackingbrall to bring on hikes. It would lead him to her.

He dug it out of his rucksack and wiped the camisole Rose had worn across it as he cast the activation spell. The Trackingbrall began to roll the instant he set it down. Scorpius yanked mosquito netting out of the way and followed as it whirled along the side veranda toward the shower, dropped off onto the ground, and increased speed.

The Trackingbrall led to the boundary line at the rear of the villa. It went across and halted.

Scorpius kicked the glowing orb. "Keep going."

It rolled back to the original stopping place.

Scorpius clenched his fists. Rose . . . lured away . . . untraceable beyond the point of Apparation. Scared. Hurt.

_No._

Rose was strong. She would defend herself with talk if spells weren't an option.

He picked up the Trackingbrall and went back to exchange his swim trunks for a t-shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. Next, he found Rose's brush. If a personal item activated a tracking charm, hairs would focus a scrying spell. He aimed his wand at the French doors.

A single pane misted and cleared to reveal a narrow opening in a rock face that jutted out of water. A sea cave. But where? He'd splinch if he tried to Apparate without an exact destination.

Scorpius punched the glass.

The pain of torn knuckles was worth the satisfaction of venting his frustration. He only wished the blood belonged to Rose's kidnapper.

_The blood . . . ._

Scorpius cast a healing charm and rifled through the trunk. After Rose had figured out the lizard was a pet, it seemed unlikely the blood used to draw the rune came from animal sacrifice. He'd set the handkerchief aside.

Now he had a use for it.

He couldn't track Rose or lose himself in a happy memory to send a Patronus. He'd have to reach her another way.

At the place where the Trackingbrall had stopped, Scorpius spread out the handkerchief and used  _Incido_ to etch a summoning rune through the fabric into the ground. He conjured a silver knife. Blood magic, dismissed as Dark at Hogwarts, figured prominently in several wizard tales. Blood, the symbol of life, was used for good or evil according to the sacrifice and will of the caster.

Scorpius cut the second finger of his left hand and wiped the blood on the handkerchief. " _Arcesso_!"

Moments later, there was a popping sound. A grey-bearded wizard appeared.

" _Incarcerous!"_ Scorpius lunged to grab the man by the collar of his tattered robes. "Where is she? What have you done to her?" Rose should've been able to escape once her captor left.

"I smell blood."

The whisper chilled Scorpius. The bastard was loony. Capable of anything. He tightened his grip. "If you hurt her—"

"I thought I was saving her. That you were one of them."

"I'm not. Take me to Rose."

The wizard drew in a breath—sniffing for lies?

Scorpius raised his wand. "If you don't take me to her in the next minute I'm going to hex—and keep hexing—until you do." He would start with  _Dolore._ Grandfather preferred it to the Cruciatus Curse because the pain inflicted was effective, but not Unforgiveable. If that didn’t work, who was going to t

" _Scorpius!"_

Rose ran from the villa, into his arms. "It's okay. I'm all right. He didn’t hurt me."

He couldn't hold her tight enough. "I thought you were unconscious. Unable to Apparate."

Tears streaked her face. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise at first that Rhys wasn't coming back." She drew away to look into his eyes. "He isn't their first victim. He has evidence—"

"Of what? Who is he accusing?"

"The Knights of Walpurgis,” she said. “They’ve committed murder.”

Scorpius cast a counter spell.

Rose shuddered. "I haven't been entranced. Rhys told me his story and I believe it." Her face flushed with anger. "Knights use this island as a private hunting ground. They bring wizards here and kill them!"

_Off there to the right—somewhere—is a large island . . . ._

"That's a wizard tale," Scorpius said. "The Most Dangerous Game. A wizard big game hunter is shipwrecked on the island of a madman." He told the loony Rhys, "Clever lie, but there's a flaw. You don't look like you'd be a challenge to hunt."

"I'm not lying,” Rhys said. “I've never read any wizard tales." His voice was matter-of-fact. Unsettlingly so.

Scorpius asked, "What made them choose you?"

"I'm a werewolf. All their victims are."

Scorpius laughed without humour. "No Knight of Walpurgis would hunt a werewolf on a full moon. It goes against the creed of self-preservation."

"It wasn't a full moon," Rhys said. "It was the new moon."

When their quarry was no more dangerous than any "normal" wizard would be. That  _was_ Slytherin-like. Damn them.

"Wait," Rose said. "Rhys, you said you were afraid they were coming back this month."

"I am."

Scorpius got Rose's meaning. "Last night was the new moon and we're the only ones here."

"The new moon lasts three days," Rhys said.

They could arrive any time. Scorpius released Rhys from his bonds yet kept his wand ready to hex. "Prove your honesty with a wizard's handshake."

Rhys shook his hand and didn’t wince at the pain. "I'll do anything to see my wife again."

"Good to know. Tell us about her later," Scorpius said. There was no time to waste on chat.

Rose nodded. "I'll pack the trunk."

"And the soup. There's a thermos in my rucksack. I'll use a shrinking spell on the hammock and the loo."

"What do possessions matter?" Rhys cried. "We have to activate the Portkey and leave here before they return!”

Scorpius said, “It's set for the end of the week. I don't know how to change it." Portkey spellwork wasn't part of the Advanced Charms curriculum.

"We have to hide," Rose said. "It isn't safe at the villa."

Rhys gripped his matted hair with both hands as if ready to pull it out. "What do we do if they come back?" he asked frantically.

Scorpius looked at Rose. "We fight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the first chapter's note, I mentioned an Entertainment Weekly magazine article gave me idea for Lucius's holiday switch. I can now admit the article also inspired by mentioning Lost fans thinking a book that John Locke held in "The Long Con" episode meant the show would end like the story, a dream before dying. I didn't watch the show and couldn't speculate how it would end, but I had read An Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge, and it reminded me of another classic tale: The Most Dangerous Game by Richard Connell. I couldn't help thinking what if there was a similar wizard tale that influenced cowardly Knights to stack the odds of their own game in their favour—who would they hunt? And then I wrote about it.


	6. Preparations

 

"You mean die," Rhys said. "They'll outnumber us two-to-one!"

"We'll outsmart them. Use the advantage of surprise—which we'll lose if our gear's on the veranda when the Portkey activates," Scorpius replied.

Rose placed her hand on Rhys's arm. "It should be safe if we walk across the boundary line together."

"And if it isn't?"

"Stop, drop, and roll." She was taught to respect her elders, but Rhys was acting as bloody-minded as her brother Hugo. She marched forward, determined to drag him along if needed.

Scorpius fell into step beside her. They all crossed the line of sand.

"Not even a spark," Rhys muttered.

Was he disappointed? Hugo would have been, too.

Rhys suddenly jerked to a halt. "I can't go near that place. I'll burn it to the ground." He tried to pull away.

She held onto his robe. "Wait. It's an Aversion Charm."

Scorpius Disapparated.

"He'll counter the spell by the time we arrive," Rose said and visualised a place on the veranda for Side-Along Apparation. She didn't want to waste time walking.

It didn't take long to pack. Rhys said he didn't know any helpful spells because he’d never had more possessions than he could stuff into a kit bag, but he offered to carry anything they needed. When Scorpius handed him the miniaturised water closet, Rhys lifted shaggy brows. "Does the toilet flush?"

Again, he reminded Rose of Hugo. She almost asked if there was an older sister he'd embarrassed throughout childhood. She said, "No, it's a camping toilet. You use  _Evanesco_ —in private."

"Ladies deserve privacy," Scorpius said in a tone that dared the man to argue.

Rhys immediately stuffed the tiny box into a pocket overflowing with mosquito net. "We done here?"

"Almost." Scorpius took the Sneakoscopes from his rucksack and chanted a spell. "One will act as a silent alarm and the other will whistle."

He used a sticking charm to hide a Sneakoscope atop the roof beam near the front door.

"They teach levitation at Hogwarts?" Rhys asked as he and Rose watched Scorpius float in air.

She smiled. "He reads." It was one of his many incredibly sexy qualities. Like his intelligence, self-confidence, the way he kissed, and the way he made her feel.

"I could use a book with spells like that," Rhys said. He Disapparated.

Alone with Scorpius, Rose felt free to stare while he descended to the ground. A whimsical breeze played with his hair, blowing pale strands across lips that curved when she wrapped her arms around his waist before his feet touched stone. She hid her face against his chest.

He caressed her hair. "You weren't scared I'd fall, were you?"

"No." The emotion gripping her wasn't fear. She closed her eyes when his fingers gently raised her chin.

"Look at me," he said.

And melt? It was the wrong place and time. She concentrated on the vision of a cave accessible by Apparation or by sea and the wide ledge perched above sand revealed during low tide. The spell pressed them through a magical void to a place that echoed with the sloshing of water against rock.

"Now will you open your eyes?" Scorpius asked.

It still wasn't the right time, but at least there was no danger of Knights making an appearance. Rose lifted her face and stretched upward to kiss Scorpius. She meant to make it short, to express _this is what I wanted to do before and why I couldn't look at you_ and pull away.

Their lips touched, and her plan dissolved like sea foam. "I love you," she whispered between kisses.

" _Ahem."_

The reminder that they weren't alone didn't make Rose blush the way it would have a few months earlier. 

Scorpius's dimple flashed and then he turned, features composed. "Yes?"

"I put your things over there." Rhys pointed to the cave wall charmed with bio-luminescence to provide soft light. The lizard perched on his shoulder raised his head as if he was trying to see their gear.

"Thank you," Rose said. She asked, "Does your pet have a name? I called him Izzy."

"As good a name as any."

She couldn't decide if that meant he hadn't named the lizard, or didn't want to admit what he called it. She said, "My brother Hugo had a lizard once. It was a gecko and . . . ."  _Had bad colour, wouldn't eat, and died two days after he brought it home from the pet shop._ "It was never active like yours."

"Did you check for parasites?"

"No." Hugo had wanted to take it in for an autopsy, but that was after they'd held the funeral and Mum wouldn't let him exhume the body. To change the subject, Rose said to Scorpius, "We should probably talk strategy before we unpack."

He suggested they make plans over dinner.

Rhys stood to the side as she and Scorpius worked together to set the table and divide the food. "What, no candles?"

Scorpius placed an illumination orb down as centrepiece. "I brought only the necessities. Silver. China."

Rose bit back a giggle. Scorpius played the aristocrat so well.

The mango soup was delicious; even Rhys grunted a compliment between spoonfuls. When he asked about the bread, Scorpius explained that lembas was elf-made and satisfied hunger for an entire day.

"One little cake? Why doesn't the Ministry give it to the poor?"

"If lembas is as expensive as elf wine, they can't afford it," Scorpius replied.

"But they pay to keep us on the dole." Rhys laughed harshly. "What am I saying, course they do. That keeps werewolves registering for benefits." He cursed in Welsh, long words Rose couldn't begin to spell, with sounds that didn't exist in English.

She said, "You believe Knights use the registry to locate victims."

"Older werewolves?" Scorpius asked.

"Newly turned. The ones who still believe they're monsters and leave to protect their families." Rhys's words dripped bitterness. "The ones nobody tries hard to find."

Rose said to Scorpius, "They mistook Rhys for the man he was visiting and stunned him when he opened the door."

"Graham was making tea in the kitchen." Rhys's brief smile was cynical. "Don't that just take the biscuit?"

Scorpius said, "It still doesn't add up. MLE had to notice the link between missing persons. Why hasn't there been a formal investigation—a story in the papers?"

"They could be building a case but don't have enough evidence yet," Rose answered.

Rhys snorted. "No one cares."

Scorpius looked doubtful, but didn't argue. He offered to clear away the dishes.

While he cast spells, Rose went to her rucksack to dig out a soft covered notebook and self-inking quill. "Before we plan, I think we should list the Knights who brought Rhys here so we'll know who we might be up against." She came back to the table and waited, quill poised.

Rhys said, "I heard two names. Derrick and Flint."

Rose marked them down. "Can you describe them?"

"No. I had a sack over my head until they told me to run."

Scorpius met her enquiring gaze and said, "If it's Jonathan Derrick, he's average height and stocky. Adrian Derrick is taller, but heavy like his father."

Rose wrote the descriptions. "I've heard of Marcus Flint. Dad said he's part troll."

"It's the flat horny feet," Scorpius said dryly. "And the smell. Flint isn't much for bathing."

"Yeah. That's him," Rhys said.

Rose jotted  _stinks like a troll_ beside Flint's name. "Do any of the descriptions match the knights you saw, Rhys?"

He shook his head. "I thought the two were from the Ministry. Pasty faces, wizard hats, and black robes."

"What about their accents?" Scorpius asked.

"English."

_Couldn't tell more than that and didn't care_ came across in the flat tone. Rose focused on a more promising lead than dialects. "You thought they were officials. Were they wearing badges?"

"One of them," Rhys said. "It was silver."

"A visitor's badge." Ministry workers wore gold.

"All visits are recorded," Scorpius said, clearly following the same train of thought. "It can be used as evidence."

"Not if we don't make it off the island," Rhys said sharply. "This is the second day of the new moon. We have to plan."

He was right. Rose said, "So far, we've listed four Knights and what we know about them." She asked Rhys, "Is there anything you can tell us about the others?"

Scorpius said, "You implied there were six when you said they'd outnumber us two-to-one."

Rhys's brow furrowed. "There were five. The bastards that kidnapped me, Derrick, Flint, and the one who cracked his bloody damned knuckles over and over."

"To intimidate you?" Scorpius asked.

Rose didn't see why else, but Rhys said, "Seemed more like a habit. I told him, 'Cracking knuckles weakens your grip. There goes your sex life, wank'—er, beg pardon, miss."

She appreciated the attempt to mind his manners, as Nana would say, although she'd heard—and occasionally used—worse language. "What happened then?"

The hint of a wolfish grin creased his face. "Mr. Knuckles gave me a clobber side the head that was almost worth it."

Rose looked at Scorpius to share her amusement and found he wasn't smiling.

He asked Rhys, "That's all he did? Crack his knuckles? Nothing else?"

"He sniggered when I fell on my arse," Rhys answered. "I'd say he was big and mean."

Scorpius's gaze went to Rose. "Are you writing this down?"

His expression was unreadable. There was something wrong, something he didn't want to talk about in front of Rhys. She showed him the notebook page.

Rhys said, "What's the next step? I haven't had years of Defence Against the Dark Arts, but I know spells like  _Protego_  and  _Expelliarmus_. Wandless, of course." He snarled. “Creatures like me aren’t allowed wands.”

He referred to anti-werewolf legislation the Wizengamot refused to overturn despite the petition of activists like Harry Potter.

"Your spellcasting is impressive," Rose said. "Is that how you escaped?"

"By accident." Rhys shared that when they told him to run he took off for the orchard, although the trees offered little concealment even in darkness. The knights sent flares to light their way. He never once considered fighting. His only goal was to flee. Once adrenaline burned out, desperation led Rhys to attempt what should have killed him.

He'd Disapparated.

Without an exact destination in mind, and with no time for more than a moment's deliberation, Rhys had cast the spell with fierce determination and reached the only safety he could imagine on an island: a sea cave.

The Knights didn't search for him. They thought he was dead. Splinched.

"They won't make that mistake again," Scorpius said. "They'll use an Anti-Disapparation jinx."

Rhys shrugged. "So let the bloke run. We'll track him down later."

They came up with a plan based on Rhys’s experience, allowing for the possibility that the knights would send their new quarry in a different direction. It struck Rose that her parents had fought Dark wizards when they were younger than she was, and she wondered if they'd felt the same anxiousness to get the whole thing over with mingled with hope that fate would intervene and make battle unnecessary.

When hours passed and the Sneakoscope's alarm didn't whistle, Scorpius suggested they try to rest. A charm made stone comfortable, but Rose missed the hammock. On the floor, their bodies didn't roll towards each other naturally. She had to scoot closer on her own.

A night vision spell made her eyes sensitive to longer wavelengths of light. Everything was tinted red. Scorpius's eyes shone like rubies.

His lips brushed hers. "Sleep if you can."

She held his gaze determinedly, willing him to open up.

Finally, he whispered, "I could be wrong. There has to be more than one Knight who cracks his knuckles repetitively as if he enjoys the sound . . . and the fear it creates."

Rose hurt for Scorpius. He didn't believe that any more than she did. "And if there isn't?"

She felt him inhale deeply and slowly release his breath. "My best mate will lose his father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who read the description of "Mr. Knuckles" and immediately thought of Gregory Goyle, I tip my hat to you—a pinstriped top hat with Jack Skellington’s face and bat bowtie on it. If anyone’s interested in a Halloween story, I’d love you to read my one shot Hermione’s Halloween.


	7. Flashback

 

Scorpius closed his eyes against the look of sympathy on Rose's face. He didn't deserve it. He wasn't upset at the thought of Edgar's father going to Azkaban. If that happened, his friend would be better off.

Gregory Goyle was as big and mean as Rhys described, something Scorpius had learned when he was eight years old. Before then, he rarely saw his friend's father. The boys always played at Malfoy Manor to allow Edgar's mother time to do her shopping—the Goyles didn't have anyone like Mr. and Mrs. Stevens to run their household. While Scorpius didn't see why they couldn't play and then go to Diagon Alley with Mrs. Goyle, he accepted the excuse until the day he blew out eight candles on his birthday cake. . . .

_He knew whatever he wished for Grandfather Lucius would make happen, the way he had since Scorpius was four and cried because he didn't get his wish of going to the Magical Menagerie. Grandfather told him only wizards had the power to make wishes come true and took him to London the next day._

_The night he turned eight, after Grandfather read him a story about real wizard knights, Scorpius hesitated to tell him what he'd wished for._

_Grandfather lifted an eyebrow. "Dear boy, I assure you anything you desire is within my realm of capability."_

" _Even making people do what they don't want to?" Scorpius felt naughty for asking, but Grandfather looked pleased._

" _That's one of my specialties."_

_As promised, his grandfather made arrangements and Scorpius went to the Goyles' home in London to play with Edgar. The neighbourhood was a street of terraced houses that appeared old and uncared for—except one._

" _Edgar's house is nice," Scorpius said. It had sparkling windows and a polished silver doorknocker._

_Grandfather rapped the front door with the tip of his cane. "The landlord lives better than his tenants."_

_When Edgar opened the door, Mr. Goyle loomed behind him._

_Scorpius's grandfather said, "Volunteered to do the child minding, Gregory? How progressive. I'll return in three hours." He was taking Scorpius to lunch._

_Mr. Goyle nodded and stepped into the entry. His lack of welcome intimidated as much as his size and the way he cracked his knuckles. Scorpius gladly followed Edgar up the stairs. "I like your house," he said, because Grandmother Narcissa insisted a mannerly guest always complimented the host. "It's very . . . clean." The air smelled of lemon and paint._

" _Mum brought in a crew of house-elves."_

_For Scorpius's visit? It would be impolite to ask._

_Edgar led the way to his room, which took up half the second floor. The shelves of the massive play area held more toys than Scorpius had seen outside a shop. None of them looked educational. Four models of broomsticks hung on the wall._

" _Are you allowed to fly those in the house?" Scorpius asked._

_Edgar shrugged._ " _They never said I couldn't."_

_Scorpius reached for a streamlined handle._

" _That's a Meteor, made by the Firebolt company. Pick it up and let it go." When the broomstick hovered at mounting height, Edgar said, "Try it."_

_That was all the persuasion Scorpius needed. In seconds, he was astride the broom and rising from the vine-patterned Turkish carpet._

" _Catch!" Edgar threw a red leather ball to Scorpius and then mounted a broom and pushed upward. "It's an official Quaffle," he said. "See the signature? That's Levski. He was on the Bulgarian National Team for ages. Dad collects their memorabilia."_

" _You're allowed to play with this?"_

" _Yeah. It's only the Bludgers Dad's mental about. Toss it back."_

_The room had a vaulted ceiling and two metres of empty wall space above the shelving units. They wouldn't break anything. Scorpius threw the Quaffle._

_Edgar caught it and stretched out his arm. "Loser lets it hit the floor." He dropped the ball._

_Scorpius leaned forward to make the broom plunge. He grabbed the Quaffle and hurled it toward the far wall as he leaned back to slow his descent. The instant his feet touched the ground he kicked off into the air._

_It didn't take long for the game to get out of control. They knocked toys off shelves; game pieces scattered across the carpet. Edgar took a stuffed Hippogriff by the neck and used it as a bat._

_The Quaffle shot off at an odd angle. Scorpius sent his broom into a dive, flung out an arm, and overbalanced._

_THUD!_

_Flat on his back, out of breath, Scorpius managed to nod when Edgar knelt beside him and asked if he was all right._

_The bedroom door slammed open._

" _What the hell is going on?" The low, rough demand was scarier than yelling. Mr. Goyle barrelled into the room and wrapped a meaty hand around Edgar's arm. He jerked the boy to his feet. "What's your mother going to say about this mess, huh? HUH?"_

" _I'm sorry!" Edgar cried._

" _It's my fault as well, sir," Scorpius said, "I'll help put things right."_

" _No." Mr. Goyle bent to look his son in the eye. "You want to be Malfoy's toady? Get used to doing his dirty work." His glance at Scorpius did more than shoot daggers. It bludgeoned with an iron mace. "Stay where you are until he's finished."_

_Scorpius waited until Mr. Goyle left and said, "You're not a toady. I'll sort the game pieces."_

_Edgar shook his head. "He said you couldn't help."_

" _No, he said I couldn't move."_

_The glum expression on Edgar's face didn't lighten. "I'm still good as hexed. Mum organised my room, she'll have kittens if anything's out of place." His shoulders slumped. "I can't remember where it all goes. I play with one thing at a time and put it right back."_

_Most of the toys were now on the floor._

_Scorpius could help with that too. He said, "The Hippogriff was on the third shelf on the left side next to a toy manticore, a fire crab, and a Ukrainian Ironbelly dragon."_

Rose's lips pressed his, breaking the reverie. The kiss was tender and comforting—something else he didn't deserve. Scorpius slid his fingers into her hair and kissed her passionately. The only visions he wanted his brain to conjure were of the two of them, alone, with all the time in the world and no limits to how they could express their love. It didn't matter where they were. He was blind to everything around them, caught up in taste of her mouth and the heat of her skin as she gasped his name and clutched his shoulders, pulling the material of his shirt.

_His shirt?_

Scorpius froze. He'd gone from reliving the past to acting out fantasy! He rolled to the side. "Sorry. I didn't mean to put all my weight on you."

"It didn't hurt," Rose said. "It felt good."

It did? "I thought you were gasping for air."

She uttered a sound of amusement or embarrassment—maybe both.

He touched her cheek. Night vision put a red veil over creamy skin, but he could feel the warmth of her blush. He resisted the temptation to kiss her again and dropped his hand. "We should rest."

Each minute of pretended sleep seemed to drag on far past the allotted sixty seconds. It was a relief to hear Rose whisper, "May I ask a silly question?"

"You can ask me anything."

Her lips curved. "Do you know why you look like a vampire when you smile?"

Scorpius almost laughed. He hadn't expected the question to actually be silly. "My crimson teeth? They'll whiten by morning."

Rose flashed her own vampire-after-a-bite grin. "It's because you're dead sexy."

He chuckled. "So are you. You're beautiful."

" _Bloody_  beautiful?"

A growl echoed. "This cave has better acoustics than a concert hall," Rhys called out. "Whatever you're doing over there, do it more quietly. I'd like to sleep."

Rose called back, "Good night," and then leaned over to kiss Scorpius. "I wish I could be like Juliet and say good night until it's tomorrow."

"If each one comes with a kiss I wish you'd try."

"All right." Her lips grazed the corner of his mouth. " _Buenas Noches_. _"_ She kissed his cheek. " _Noapte buna."_ His brow. " _Buonanotte._ " His chin. " _Guten Nacht."_ Rose kissed his mouth with beguiling slowness, light kisses with closed lips that made him ache for the lick of her tongue and a more intimate  _bonne nuit._

 

In the morning, when soft light peeked into the mouth of the cave, he gently disentangled himself from Rose's arms and went to his rucksack.

She sat up. " _Bonjour_."

" _Bonjour_." He pulled out bars of dark chocolate. "Our breakfast. They have as much caffeine as a double espresso." He'd meant to share them with Rose in much different circumstances.

Rhys ambled over. "A werewolf never turns down chocolate."

"Neither do I," Rose said.

Scorpius ate his share and broke the fourth bar into thirds. He conjured goblets of water with ease, so hot chocolate should be no problem. He cast the spell and offered the first mug to Rose.

She sipped the chocolate. "It's the perfect temperature."

Scorpius glanced at Rhys, who took a drink and shrugged—not a promising reaction. Scorpius lifted his mug to his lips. The temperature bordered on hot without scalding. He'd done that well, but the taste . . . . Pride made him swallow. "It's chocolate water. There's no milk."

"Nana Granger makes hot chocolate like that sometimes," Rose said in a consoling tone. "She uses powder that comes in a tin."

Scorpius doubted the Muggle concoction was as bad as his.

Rhys finished his drink with a slurp. He said, "I'll finish yours, Malfoy, if you don't want it."

"I didn't say that." Chocolate water was better than nothing. As he drank, Scorpius mentally reviewed the plan they'd designed. He said, "We have to adjust our strategy."

"Use Disillusionment Charms so they won't see us," Rose said. She asked Rhys, "Have you cast that spell before?"

"No."

Scorpius interpreted the look Rose slanted his way and said, "The Knights aren't early risers. There's time for you to learn."

Rhys picked up the charm quickly. His ability to focus intently made him a natural at wandless magic. The lesson transitioned from theory to application as they took turns at being "Knight" while the others practised casting spells at a moving target.

When he played the Knight, Scorpius returned fire at his opponents.

He hit Rhys with a Jelly-Legs jinx and turned to aim a Confundus Charm at Rose. She hit him with a Body-Bind Curse.

"Serves him right," Rhys said. "I'm wobbly as a pissed newt."

Rose countered the spells. "The Knights won't jinx. They'll use Unforgivable Curses. You have to shield yourself at all times."

They continued to practise. Each "what if" scenario raised more disturbing questions for Scorpius. What was going to happen when the battle was over and they left the island? Beyond the reactions of their families, how would the Knights of Walpurgis respond? Would Rose become a target? It was painfully easy to imagine.

He agreed when Rose said they were ready and suggested they celebrate with a swim. He needed to release stress.

"You're daft," Rhys said. "What if the Sneakoscope whistles?"

"We'll stay where we can hear it." Scorpius's gaze went to Rose. "Don't you want to feel the sun on your face?"

"Of course, but he has a point."

"Right." Scorpius yanked his shirt up and over his head. "You two stay on the alert, and I'll have a swim." He unfastened his jeans.

Rhys curled his lip and walked to the opposite side of the cave.

Rose followed Scorpius. "What's wrong?"

He kicked off his trainers and socks and tossed his shirt down on the growing pile by his rucksack. "The walls are closing in. I need a break."

Rose wrapped her arms around him. "We'll stun them before they even know we're there. Everyone will be safe."

That wasn't his worry, but for her sake he relaxed into the hug.

Scorpius quickly changed and jumped into the water. He swam to just beyond the cave entrance, floating on his back to gaze up at the cloudless expanse of sky. He tried to concentrate on breathing. Inhale. Exhale. His thoughts interfered; reminding him the serenity of the moment was only an illusion.

A whistle pierced the air like a call to battle.

He immediately transitioned into a front crawl, his fastest swimming stroke. Each time he reached to catch the water and pull his body forward, Scorpius pushed distracting thoughts away. Now was the time to act. He would deal with consequences when they happened.

Rhys helped pull him out of the water. "Sod's Law in action, them showing up on land when you're in the ocean." His laugh had a nervous edge to it.

Scorpius felt strangely calm. "There's no good time for killers to arrive." He dried off and put on hiking sandals.

"I'm ready," Rose said.

Her confidence spilled over to Rhys, who nodded vigorously. "Me, too."

Scorpius wasn't the type to make rallying speeches. He said, "Let's go."

 

Apparating to the orchard allowed trees to screen their presence. They cast Disillusionment Charms and then walked slowly to avoid creating a blurring effect. Even arrogant bastards noticed things that were out of the ordinary.

Since the veranda was the logical gathering place, Scorpius, Rose, and Rhys approached it directly.

Where a hammock once hung, three wizards in black robes lounged on conjured chairs, throwing back shots of what appeared to be rum. Scorpius recognised Jonathan Derrick, Marcus Flint, and Gregory Goyle.

He stared at Goyle with cold loathing.  _You think preying on the weak makes you invincible. I'm going to prove you wrong._

"We've given those boys enough time to have their fun," Flint said. "It's our turn."

Scorpius experienced a quiver of unease.  _Boys?_

"No." Goyle cracked his ogre-sized knuckles. "We wait until—"

" _Stupefy!_ " The plan was to listen and gather information before they attacked, but something inside Scorpius couldn't let Goyle finish his sentence. He hurled the spell.

Flint and Derrick stared in confusion when Goyle slumped forward as if passed out.

"What—" Flint began to rise and toppled backward. At the same time, Derrick crashed sideways onto the ground—Rose and Rhys's Stunning Spells at work.

Scorpius fought the urge to hex the men on the ground. Intellect told him adrenaline triggered the need to keep fighting, but emotionally, he struggled.

Rhys reacted differently. "We did it!" He sounded elated to strike at the men who had hunted him.

"This isn't over," Rose said. "We have to locate the others."

Her quiet firmness helped Scorpius regain composure. He used  _Incarcerous_  to bind their prisoners with cords and cast  _Devincire_  to defeat any attempt to rouse them with a single counter charm.

Rhys asked, "Should I stand guard?"

On the heels of his question came a shout.

" _She's gone! She broke the ropes and climbed the wall!"_

Scorpius ran down the side veranda to the courtyard.

Adrian Derrick swayed on his feet, rubbing his jaw. It had been a year since he'd left Hogwarts. He was heftier and looked even more the bully.

" _Stupefy!"_  As Derrick fell, Scorpius looked for something he could use and found a white button lying on the ground. He levitated to the top of the wall.

"Scorpius, what are you doing?" Rose asked sharply.

"Casting a tracking spell." Green light shot out from his wand in the direction of the orchard. How ironic. They could have crossed paths. He said, "I'll send my Patronus," and Apparated to a hillside spot between a field of grass and the path they had climbed from the beach.

Scorpius recast the tracking spell and then jogged toward the cliff.

He saw the girl first. She had tangled blonde hair and clutched the hand of the boy who turned, wand lifted, when Scorpius said, "Hullo, Edgar."

 


	8. Fight

 

Rose could've hexed him. The plan was to stay together, not charge off like lone avengers. Who did Scorpius think he was, the Green Knight?

She cast  _Incarcerous_  to tie and gag the new prisoner, a boy who used to shove his way through Hogwarts corridors. Adrian Derrick had sneered every time she'd docked House points.

"Hey, you two, what's going on?" Rhys shouted.

Rose didn't answer. It was bad enough anyone listening heard there were three wizards against him. She wasn't going to volunteer that the count was less! She released a calming breath and flicked her wand to levitate Derrick's body down the walkway. As she followed, Rose peered through charred windows into the villa; each fire-blackened room was an abyss of shadows. Only a sound—the crunch of broken glass—would betray the presence of a Knight using concealment charms.

She stayed on her guard, mindful of Professor Thomas' first rule: Protect yourself at all times. The DADA teacher taught from experience. During the war, a moment of carelessness led to his capture by Snatchers.

The tension in her muscles didn't relax when she set her prisoner beside the others. The veranda was too exposed.

"We got another one!"

In his glee, Rhys seemed to forget basic defence. "Quiet!" she whispered. "You'll make yourself a target."

"I cast  _Protego_  same as—"

_THWACK! THWACK!_

Rhys crumpled to the ground, fully visible.

" _Expelliarmus!"_ Rose cried. She kept her wand aimed at the place Rhys once stood. " _Petrificus Totalus!_ "

"Don't waste your breath," a man's voice said. "Only animals are incapable of high-strength Shield Charms. Show yourselves before I bash his skull in."

Rose immediately used a counter charm.

The Knight did likewise. Tall, with a pasty-white complexion and robes smudged with ash, he held a liquor bottle like a Beater's bat. "You're Rose Weasley," he said as if he couldn't believe it. His gaze flickered past her shoulder. "Where's that blood-traitor Malfoy? No one else would've brought you here."

"He's saving your victim." Rose weighed her options. She couldn't maintain Shield Charms for both herself and Rhys. She'd have to keep the Knight talking until Scorpius returned or else take drastic action.

She chose non-violence. "You know my name. Were we at school together?"

"For a year," he said brusquely. "Drop your wand."

She pretended not to hear the order. "You were a Beater for Slytherin."

"Chaser."

"Like your father." The boys the Knights spoke of were their sons. Why hadn't she realised it before? Scorpius left to confront Edgar. Weakly, she asked, "Is your name Marcus, too?"

"It's Marc. Stop nattering," he said through gritted teeth. "Drop your wand!"

And have him break it? She closed her eyes and focused. "There." She lifted empty hands.

Marc roared, "What'd you do?"

_Cast a spell from Aunt Luna's Night of the Nargles. If "Mitto Scorpius" doesn't send him my wand, Auntie owes me a replacement._

Rose said, "I got rid of it. Isn't that what you wanted, to disarm me so you could counter the spells on your father?" She wanted him to waste time trying.

"Shut up." Brow creased in effort, Marc pointed his wand at Marcus Sr. " _Finite!"_ When nothing happened, he glared at Rose. "Tell me what to say."

"Incantations won't do any good unless you matriculated in N.E.W.T. level Charms." She bet he hadn't, that he had troll blood—Uncle Harry's way of saying someone was mean and stupid.

Marc glared at her. "You do it, then."

"I can't."

He clubbed Rhys across the back of the head and started to bring the bottle down again.

"Stop! I—I need my wand." She couldn't wait for Scorpius anymore. Rhys might die. "It's spelled against Summoning Charms," she lied boldly. "I'll have to go get it."

"From where?"

"The orchard." The first place she thought of.

"I'm coming with you." Marc placed the liquor bottle beside his father and gestured for her to walk in front of him.

Rose stepped into the sunlight, shivering despite the heat. The beauty of the island mocked the ugliness of human nature. "You were in the wine cellar when, erm, everything happened?" she asked to sidetrack Marc from noticing how slowly she walked.

Silence prickled the skin between her shoulders.

"That doesn't seem right, making you the errand boy," she said. "The others are younger. Edgar should've gone. Or Adrian."

"I obeyed my father."

The undercurrent of resentment gave Rose hope. "You don't have to anymore." She turned to face him. "Make your own choices. It isn't too late," she said. "You haven't killed anyone."

"Yet."

"Like I said—"

"Shut. Up." Marc grabbed her arm. "Move. I haven't forgotten about your boyfriend."

"Neither have I." Rose prayed Scorpius was all right. When she crossed the boundary line, she dug in her heels and put her hand over Marc's. She had to try one last time. "Please. Don't make me do this."

A crimson flush mottled his face. He shoved her away—the expected reaction.

She ran toward the villa.

" _Crucio!"_

"Aaah!" Her Shield Charm prevented torture, but Marc's desire to harm struck her body like fists. She fell to her knees and looked back to see him step across the thin ribbon of black sand.

_WHOOSH!_ Flames jetted upward in a wave of blue fire.

Marc yelled a primal sound of agony and rage.

Rose stared in horror. An acrid stench filled the air, so thick she could almost taste it. Sulphurous. Meaty. He was burning alive! She screamed, " _Finite Incantatem!"_

The flames vanished. Marc toppled to the ground.

She crawled over to him. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." She reached out but hesitated to touch him, afraid the clothing was stuck to his skin.

His blistered, peeling skin.

"Oh gods, I have to do it." With trembling hands, she pulled at his burned robes.

Marc thrashed and groaned.

She choked on tears. "Lie still. _Medire…Medire!_ "

His skin remained raw. Oozing.

She cast the first aid charm again.

And again.

"ROSE!"

Scorpius's voice called to her, but she didn't answer. Her spells were weak if she didn't focus.

" _Stupefy!_ " Scorpius was beside her, arms enfolding. "Shhh... He isn't in pain anymore. Shhh…." His lips pressed kisses to her hair, her face, her mouth. " _Rose."_

He'd thought Marc and Edgar hunted the girl . . . wouldn't have left if he'd known . . . he was sorry, so damned sorry . . . . His words washed over her.

"I'm all right," she said numbly. "It's Rhys—and Marc—who need help."

"We'll take them to St. Mungo's." Scorpius drew her to her feet and cast  _Mobilicorpus_ to lift Marc off the ground.

He gave Rose her wand, apologising for not noticing it sooner. Teryn, the girl Edgar freed, was the one . . . . She listened to his explanation with half an ear as she gazed at the meticulously crafted wood.

_Why do they keep us dependent on you? You're not a tool. You're a crutch._

Rose realised Scorpius waited for her to comment and thought over what he'd said, that Edgar helped Teryn escape intending to say she fell into the sea. He would have returned later to take her off the island.

"Did he plan to notify the authorities?" Rose asked.

"He didn't say."

_You didn't ask._ She understood. "We'll do it for him."

On the veranda, Edgar and a girl with wide brown eyes—Teryn—tended Rhys.

"I've stopped the bleeding," Edgar said. His eyes fell on Marc and shot accusingly to Rose. "What did you cast?  _Incendio?_ "

" _Accendo."_

"A protective ward," Scorpius said. "Marc was harmed because he tried to hurt Rose."

"So he got what he deserved?"

"No." In her mind, she saw the flames. "No one deserves that."

Scorpius wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He told Edgar, "We need your Portkey to get everyone off the island. Ours won't activate until the end of the week."

Edgar looked at his father.

"Please," Teryn whispered. "I want to go home."

Edgar slowly nodded. A Persian rug appeared, unfurled, the wizard version of a flying carpet. "We'll transport to a warehouse Father owns in London. You can summon help from there."

 

It was a tight fit to squeeze ten people onto the long, narrow rug, but they managed. Rose barely felt the Portkey activate and didn't lose her footing when they reached their destination. She headed for the nearest door.

Outside, she raised her wand. " _Adiuvare!"_ Red sparks shot into the air.

Beside her, Scorpius said, " _Adiuvare Aurors!_ " His wand sent blue light skyward.

Seconds later, a flash of yellow and green screeched to a halt beside the kerb. Two Mediwizards in lime-coloured robes jumped out of the ambulance.

"The injured are inside," Scorpius said. "One's a burn victim, the other suffered head trauma."

Rose led the way while Scorpius waited for the Aurors. She did her best to answer the Mediwizards' questions, although when they caught sight of Edgar and Teryn standing next to three bound men, the only explanation she offered was, "They're Stunned, not hurt. Citizen's arrest."

If the Mediwizards doubted her word, they didn't show it. They briskly worked to stabilise Rhys and Marc and prepare them for transport.

Scorpius and the Aurors entered the warehouse while she was volunteering to ride along to St. Mungo's.

"You can come in and give your statement when convenient, Miss Weasley," one of the Aurors said. He had an earnest, freckled face.

She said, "Thank you, Auror . . . ."

"Connelly, Miss."

Rose glanced at Scorpius and looked away. The worry in his eyes was misplaced. She was fine. "Thank you, Auror Connelly. I'd best be going."

"Do you want us to contact your folks?" he called after her.

"No, thank you. I'll do it."  _When I'm ready._

The ride to the hospital was surreal. A blink of the eye and the ambulance was at St. Mungo's, staff hurrying to whisk the emergency patients into the Dai Llewellyn ward. A Mediwitch directed Rose to the first-floor waiting area.

Rose sat with folded hands and concentrated on taking long, slow breaths. She inhaled deeply, held her breath to the count of three, and then gradually exhaled. Calming breaths. They had banished nightmares when she was young; pushed all thoughts aside except the count of each suspended breath.

" _Rosie!"_

Her dad strode into the waiting area and scooped her out of her chair, hugging her fiercely. "You gave us a scare, Rosie. You gave us a scare."

Her mum embraced them both and kissed Rose's cheek. "The Weasley clock showed you in mortal peril, love. The whole family's been desperate to find you."

Dad loosened his hold enough for Rose to look at him. "I never dreamt I'd be over the moon to see a ferret Patronus," he said.

"It was a mongoose, dear." Mum brushed Rose's hair away from her face. "Scorpius told us where you were and that you might be in shock."

"He told  _you_ , and he'll get more than a shock if he let our daughter be hurt—are you hurt, Rosie?" Dad eyed her as if scanning for blood or other signs of injury.

"He meant psychological shock, and I agree with Scorpius," Mum said. "You need to see a Healer, Rose."

"No. I'm fine." Her vision blurred. "I'm fine." Tears scalded her cheeks. She tried to wipe them away but they kept flowing, and her body kept shaking, even when her dad hollered for a Mediwitch and her mum rocked her in her arms and promised everything would be all right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Protect yourself at all times" is boxing trainer Frankie Dunn's (Clint Eastwood's) rule in the movie Million Dollar Baby. I thought it would be something a DADA professor would say (in the words of Morgan Freeman's Eddie "Scrap-Iron" Dupris character) Over and over and over... till they think they're born that way.


	9. Family

Rose was too calm. Detached. Auror Connelly might believe she'd get in touch with her parents right away, but Scorpius didn't. He could read it on her face. Rose thought she was in control when she was really in shock.

He'd have to send the message for her.

Scorpius closed his eyes to block out distractions. Let people think what they liked about a Slytherin with a mongoose Patronus. He was through hiding who he was. He concentrated and pictured the island, Rhys bleeding on the shadowed veranda, Rose nowhere in sight. He sank into the memory and followed a trail left in dirt to the place where Rose knelt. Alive. Unharmed. The joy he'd experienced, savage and life changing, gripped his soul again.

" _Expecto Patronum!_ "

A silvery mongoose leapt from his wand and stood on its hind feet as Scorpius completed the spell to send messages. When it darted away, he told the Aurors, "I notified Rose's mother."

"Good," said Connelly.

The second Auror, a heavily built older wizard, rubbed a hand across the gold badge pinned to his robes—to activate a Protean Charm and request back up, no doubt. "That was a lot of swish and flick for one message," he said. "Who else did you contact?"

They weren't going to like the answer. "My grandfather."

The Aurors looked at each other. "The Malfoys are pure-bloods," Connelly said reasonably. "Lucius Malfoy is the head—"

"—of a group accused of kidnapping and murder." The grizzled Auror held his wand outstretched as if ready to fire off spells. "All right, people, wands on the ground, hands in the air."

"You're arresting us? We didn't do anything wrong!" Teryn sniffled. "I don't even have a wand."

"We're only taking you in to get your statement, miss," Connelly said. "You can lower your hands. Auror Stern is _overzealous_."

"Vigilant," Stern said, bracing a hand against the small of his back after leaning over to pick up the wands. "It's what's kept me alive through two wars and three marriages." He turned his flinty gaze on Scorpius. "What did you tell your grandfather?"

"Come to the Ministry."

Stern glanced at his partner with an "I told you" expression as he said, "With a solicitor for you and your friend, eh?"

"No." Scorpius didn't volunteer anything else. The message was private.

Four Aurors entered the warehouse, distracting Stern from further interrogation. "Stay where you are," he said before he and Connolly went to meet the newcomers.

Edgar said, "Knowing Lucius, he'll bring a solicitor anyway."

_And Stern will call me a liar._ Scorpius shrugged. "If he doesn't, we'll send for one." Edgar went against his father to save Teryn. He shouldn't have to spend a day in Azkaban. Scorpius said, "Malfoy Enterprises keeps Graham Pritchard on retainer."

"One of the best. Does he work  _pro bono_?"

Scorpius acknowledged with a faint smile the jab that for Edgar's family—unlike the Malfoys—expense was a consideration. The truth was Gregory Goyle was a skinflint, and if his wife Millicent didn't threaten to hex him their home would be as rundown as the warehouse and every other Goyle property. "We'll cover his fees," Scorpius said. He glanced at the Aurors headed their way. "Until we get you counsel, though, don't answer any questions and don't volunteer any information."

"What about me?" Teryn asked. "Can't I tell them Edgar didn't know what they planned, and when he saw it was me he stopped the other boy and helped me escape?"

_When he saw it was me._ They knew each other. Scorpius guessed Teryn's age to be sixteen or seventeen, yet didn't remember seeing her at Hogwarts. "Yes," he said. "You're the victim. Your testimony doesn't require immunity from prosecution."

Teryn burst into noisy tears and clung to Edgar like a dryad to an endangered oak. "They can't prosecute you! They can't!"

Edgar seemed flustered by the emotional outburst but made no move to loosen her hold. An interesting reaction for someone betrothed to another girl.

"HEY! What's going on?" Stern lumbered over. "Is Malfoy threatening you, miss?"

Teryn shook her head and buried her face against Edgar's chest.

Stern turned a gimlet eye on Scorpius. "If I find out you suborned the witness—"

"I'm sure Mr. Malfoy is well aware it's a criminal offence to induce perjury," Connelly said. He approached Teryn. "I'm sorry, miss, you'll have to step away from Mr. Goyle so I can take you to the Ministry."

"What about them?" Edgar jerked his head toward the prisoners on the floor.

"An MLE van will provide transport," Stern said. He pointed, and a male Auror strode forward. "Auror Quinnan will Side-Along Apparate with you, Mr. Goyle."

One of the Aurors was motherly looking. Scorpius wouldn't mind Apparating with her.

Stern said, "You Apparate with me, Malfoy."

The knowledge that if he Splinched, Stern would end up missing body parts, too, enabled Scorpius to grip the man's arm with every appearance of confidence. All the same, his stomach lurched in a way it hadn't since he'd tested for his license, and the moment he felt pavement under his feet and saw the brick wall concealing the employees' entrance to the Ministry, Scorpius heaved a breath of relief.

Stern touched the tip of his wand to a brick and turned his wrist as though turning a key in a lock. A doorway appeared. It led into a chamber with two banks of lifts.

"Where are the others?" Scorpius asked.

"Following procedure and taking separate lifts." Stern flashed the smile of a long-time coffee drinker. "It's just you and me."

The ride to the second level was mercifully brief. Scorpius, ordered to lead the way down an iron-grey corridor in the Magical Law Enforcement section, saw clusters of Aurors and law enforcement wizards grouped around interview room two-way mirrors and clenched his jaw at the thought of being observed like a zoo animal.

He was almost happy to see the two Aurors standing outside a door with no discernible mirror beside it. If Harry Potter and Teddy Lupin resorted to Auror brutality, at least no one would sell the story to the _Intruder_.

Stern agreed to stand guard, although it was clear he'd rather take part in the interview. "Shall I admit Lucius Malfoy when he arrives?" he asked. "The boy sent for him."

" _What?_ " Lupin glared at Scorpius.

In contrast, Potter's expression was that of a man carefully reserving judgment. Just like in the comics, Super Wizard never made rash accusations. "No," Potter said. "Let him wait."

"I won't give a statement until I speak with my grandfather," Scorpius said.

Potter opened the door. "We'll talk off the record."

The interview room had ultra-bright lighting, bare walls and no table to provide a barrier between him and his interrogators. Scorpius looked at Potter and raised a brow. "What's this? A counselling room? It hardly seems conducive—"

"Sit down." Lupin appeared ready to shove him onto one of the three wooden chairs. His irises were as dark as his pupils: a look eminently suited to the role of Bad Auror.

Potter took a seat and gestured to the chair to his left. "Please." When Scorpius complied, he said, "Your clothes suggest a beach holiday. Where were you?"

"How is Rose?"

"Resting," Lupin said. "If you want to see her again, start talking."

Scorpius kept his gaze on the wizard in charge.

After a few seconds, Potter said, "They gave Rose a Calming Draught and plan to let her go home in a few hours."

"Thank you." Scorpius deliberated for a moment and then said, "I applied for a Portkey to Lapland, but someone tampered with it—someone working in the Portkey Office."

"We can guess who paid him," Lupin said.

Scorpius leaned back in his chair: a slightly more comfortable position. "The Portkey sent us to an island in the Caribbean."

Lupin made a scoffing noise. "With no Muggle transportation or communication available?"

"It was a private island owned by the Knights of Walpurgis."

"Your grandfather's cronies."

Scorpius had enough of the running commentary. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes at Lupin. "You drink a lot of coffee and eat a lot of pastries, don't you?"

Lupin frowned. "Yeah. So?"

"Nothing, just wondering how long it'll take you to look like Stern. You already sound like him."

"I do not!"

Scorpius said blandly, "You can always morph, I suppose, to conceal the growing resemblance."

"There is no resemblance, you snarky bastard!"

"That's enough, both of you," Potter said in a quelling tone. "Serious charges have been made—by you, Scorpius—and pointless antagonism won't further the investigation."

"But you had to let him try," Scorpius said.

Potter nodded. "We need more information."

Super Wizard was apologetic, yet determined to do what was best for the greater good. Scorpius said, "You'll have it. I'll tell you everything once I speak to my grandfather."

"If he shows," Lupin said before hastily adding, “If Lucius Malfoy is a part of whatever this is, he's a flight risk."

"He'll be here." Grandfather would break faith with almost anyone else, but not with him. Scorpius said, "While we're waiting I can give you details about the island. It's in the British Virgin Islands." He broke off describing the villa when he heard the familiar  _tap, tap_ of a walking stick striking the door. "I have to speak with him," he said. "Please."

Potter told Lupin, "Let him in."

Imperious in grey business robes, Grandfather swept into the room. "I don't know what trumped-up charges you're using to hold my grandson, Potter, but I demand you release him at once!"

"There are no charges." Potter turned to Scorpius. "You have five minutes."

When he and his grandfather were alone, Scorpius said, "I can't detect an observation mirror, but we should still turn our backs to the door."

"Agreed." Grandfather put a hand on his shoulder. "You said you needed me. I'm here."

Scorpius resisted the un-Slytherin urge to hug him. "Did you owl Pritchard?"

"Yes, but Potter said—"

"I'm not asking for myself, sir." He drew his grandfather further into the room. "What do you know about what happens on Virgin Solitario?"

"What happens _?_ Drinking and whoring, I've presumed, by the boasts of  _satisfying_  experiences." Grandfather's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't tell me a party arrived and harassed Miss Weasley. No such trip was announced during last month's meeting."

"Goyle, Flint, and Derrick brought their sons," Scorpius said. "And a girl."

"Who's accusing them of rape? Your friend doesn't seem the type. I'll instruct Pritchard—"

"Edgar helped her escape. They planned to hunt her . . . and kill her . . . the way they've hunted and killed others."

Grandfather made a sound of disbelief. "She's mad."

"No. She's a werewolf. Knights of Walpurgis use the island to play their version of  _The Most Dangerous Game_ —during new moons, of course, to minimise any actual danger."

Grandfather shook his head. "The girl's read her wizard tales and fabricated the story."

"She's not the one who figured it out. I did —when I met another survivor on the island."

"Another—"

"Victim who didn't die as they assumed, who can show Aurors where the bodies are buried." When his grandfather took a step back as if trying to distance himself from what he was hearing, Scorpius moved forward. "You can't cover this up. You can't protect murderers." Whatever vows of brotherhood Knights of Walpurgis made, they weren't Unbreakable. "If you try, the Ministry will subpoena records. Seize property." Painfully aware time was running out, Scorpius said, "Cooperate and you save Knights from ruin. You save their families." He paused. "You'll save our family."

The last words still hung in the air when the door handle clicked and turned. His grandfather's face was white and set; Scorpius had made headway, but it wasn't enough. Like the Aurors, Lucius Malfoy required more information. Scorpius said, "I'd like my grandfather to remain while I give my statement."

Potter waved his wand and conjured another chair along with a table.

 

Two hours later, concealed by a Disillusionment Charm, Scorpius walked into St. Mungo's behind a harried young mother carrying a toddler who had a vine growing out of his nostril.

"I told him not to play with magic beans," she told the Welcome Witch as Scorpius headed for the stairs.

There were no familiar faces in the first floor waiting area. He continued his search. On the fourth floor, he saw an Auror standing guard outside one of the wards. The waiting area consisted of a few chairs by the stairwell, so Scorpius went up to the tearoom on the next floor.

It swarmed with Weasleys and Potters.

The family member most likely to be sympathetic wasn't at one of the tables. Scorpius found her in the gift shop, flipping through a  _Witch Weekly_ magazine. He whispered, "Help me see Rose."

"Aahhh!" Lily swatted the magazine in his direction. "Aren't Slytherins supposed to have more finesse? Now  _I_  need a Calming Draught!"

"The clerk's staring," he said.

She placed the magazine back on the shelf and called out, "There was a fly" to the man behind the shop counter. "He's stared since I walked in, the old perv," she muttered, before saying, "Aunt Hermione's with Rose. They're only allowing immediate family in to visit."

"You could change that."

"I shouldn't. You put my favourite cousin in mortal peril."

"Never willingly," he said. "I love her."

Lily sighed. "Oh, all right."

Auror Davies, while young and susceptible to Lily's charm, denied her request to visit Rose. He did, however, agree to let her "peek" into the room.

She threw the door wide open.

Scorpius slipped inside, narrowly avoiding a collision with Mrs. Weasley.

"Lily! Why aren't you upstairs with the others? I know you're worried, but there are good reasons—"

Mrs. Weasley shut the door to chide her niece, leaving Scorpius free to approach the bed. Rose was sleeping, white bed covers tucked around her. She looked like a princess under an enchantment.

Lily burst into the room, wild-eyed and flushed. "I just want to see her, Auntie!"

Scorpius took advantage of the distraction created to leave. He waited in the corridor and followed Lily.

She said, "I acted like a nutter for you two. I hope it's appreciated."

"It is . . . and I still need your help."

"No! I'll probably get a lifetime ban to the kiddie table at family dinners as it is."

"Let me into the house. If they catch me I'll say I broke in."

She yanked open the door to the stairway. "NO! Uncle Ron will go ape. He'll find out I did it and Mum will lock me in my room all summer!"

"Please."

Lily stamped her foot. "Take no for an answer!"

"I can't. I can't leave her again."

Her shoulders slumped. "Dammit. You two owe me big."

 

Half an hour later, Scorpius sat on a green chair in a garden themed bedroom, remembering the day Rose came to Malfoy Manor. She’d said her room made her feel like Briar Rose surrounded by a hedge of bad decorating. His reply,  _I'll turn the thorns into flowers,_ was more than an answering fairy tale reference.

It was a promise.

 


	10. Waiting

Rose awoke with a start. Scorpius! Where was he? It took a moment to realise she wasn't under enchantment in a castle tower; she was staring at moonstone-blue hospital walls.

"How are you feeling, love?" Her mum rose from a chair to perch on the side of the bed. The folds of her wizard robes looked unwrinkled and crisply pleated, although wavy strands of hair escaped from what remained of a sleek, businesslike updo. It was easy to imagine her rushing out of a meeting, determined to calm her husband and find their daughter.

Rose reached for her hand. "Better," she said. "I—I just had a strange dream."

Mum kissed her cheek. "Lily made a commotion insisting she had to see you. It's only natural your brain would create a dream to make sense of the random stimuli."

Rose didn't know if she believed that theory, but it was better than Mum inviting her to share the dream so they could interpret it. She asked, "Have you heard from Scorpius? Is he still at the Ministry? What about Marc—the boy who was burnt? Did the Healers save him?" She pushed aside the covers. "How long have I been sleeping? I have to—"

"—stay in this bed, young lady."

"But—"

"I understand you want to know," Mum said firmly, "but you've only rested a few hours. I'll send my Patronus. Your father's at the Ministry with Uncle Harry, he can tell us what's happening." She gave Rose's fingers a reassuring squeeze. "After that, I'll ask a mediwitch to tell Healer Wells you're awake and check on Marc Flint's condition. Agreed?"

Rose nodded. If she argued, she'd come across as a tetchy child insisting, "Me do, Mummy" instead of the adult she was—and wanted to be treated as.

Seconds later, a silvery otter romped around the bed before scampering through the wall. "There. We'll have an answer soon." Her mum patted Rose's hand. "In the meantime, I'll pop round the mediwitches' station."

Rose leaned back against the pillow and closed her eyes, trying to envision a happy memory and cast her own Patronus.

_Flames jetted upward in a wave of blue fire._

"Merlin!" Rose jack-knifed upright.

The door opened. "Everything okay, miss?" A sandy-haired young wizard—an Auror by the badge on his robes—peered into the room.

Rose recovered from the surprise of being under guard and said, "Thank you. I'm fine."

"Oh. Good. Well, if you need anything, just call. I'm Rob. Rob Davies." He started to close the door and then popped his head back into the room. "Your cousin," he said. "She seems like a really nice person."

"Lily? Yes, she is."

He stepped into the doorway. "I suppose she has a boyfriend."

"Not currently."

If Rob got the implication that Lily was never short on admirers, it didn't faze him. He smiled so boyishly Rose wondered how long he'd actually been an Auror. Third year, when Ravenclaw won the Quidditch Cup, there had been a Davies on the team.

"Brilliant," he said. "Well, I'll be outside."

He left, and Rose heard the sound of whistling. To pass the time, she tried to make out the song and finally decided it was the Cannons running out tune. Seconds after it ended, her mum returned.

"Marc Flint is expected to make a full recovery. Isn't that good news?"

"Yes." Something about the cheery tone made Rose wary there was bad news, too. She waited until her mum resumed her seat and asked, "What about Scorpius? Is he still at the Ministry?"  _With Dad and Uncle Harry interrogating . . . accusing . . . ._

"He left after giving his statement," Mum said softly, the way she always did when revealing upsetting truth.

_Mummies and Daddies carry on the work of Father Christmas . . . Crookshanks lived a long, happy life . . . Scorpius left the Ministry and didn't come to see you ._

"He's waiting for me to go home," Rose said. Scorpius was Slytherin: clever to realise only family would be allowed to visit and cunning to plan a way to see her that wouldn't end up on the front page of the  _Intruder._

"Or he's gone to Wiltshire. Some things need to be told in person, especially when the form of one's Patronus might startle." Her mum smiled a little. "Your father thought Scorpius's messenger was a ferret, but I recognise a mongoose when I see one."

Rose shoved back the covers. "His parents know—they've always known."

Mum handed her a stack of clothing. "Your jeans and t-shirt were stained so I transfigured them. If you want privacy, the loo's to your right. Healer Wells will be here soon."

Rose set the clothes on the bed and undid the ties of the hospital gown. Let the Healer see her knickers. "If he isn't, I'm leaving." She dressed in the black top and white shorts, keeping her back to the room's entrance in case the Healer or Rob the Auror walked through the door. She wasn't  _that_ bold.

Healer Wells turned out to be a grandmotherly witch who asked Rose about her experience, how she  _felt,_ and invited her to make a private appointment if lingering symptoms of shock—anger, fixation on what happened, or withdrawal from relationships and activities—made it hard to cope with day-to-day life.

Rose said she would although the only thing she was fixated on was leaving St. Mungo's, and the anger she felt was frustration that she wasn't with Scorpius.

When the Healer left after signing discharge papers, family members poured into the room. Granny Weasley enveloped Rose in a vanilla-scented hug. "I thought I'd faint when your clock hand pointed to mortal peril. That boy's—"

"Not responsible for the actions of others, dear heart," Granddad said. He kissed Rose's brow. "How are you, Rosie?"

"Much better."

Her assurance acted like a dam release; her family surged forward. Albus reached out with long arms to snag the first hug while Hugo shouldered his way past Fred and Louis and gruffly told her he was glad she was all right. Rose was patted on the back by uncles; embraced and kissed on the cheek by aunts and cousins. Aunt Fleur air kissed both sides of Rose's face.

Deluged by the outpour of love and concern, she didn't notice that Lily hung back until, when she bent to hug Lucy, Rose heard Hugo say, "I was taking the piss when I said you had to be last in line because you saw her first. I never thought you'd actually wait!"

Rose glanced over her shoulder. Lily, misleadingly demure in a white eyelet sundress, met her eyes and grinned so widely she might have well shouted, "I've got a secret to tell you!"

Lucy tugged on Rose's arm, her little face solemn. "Sigyn and Loki were afraid the babies would lose their godparents."

Was her cousin speaking for the toads or herself? "I hope you told them we'd be fine."

"I did. I said if bad people tried to hurt you and Scorpius, you'd make them sorry." Lucy bit her lip. "And you did, didn't you?"

_Burnt flesh, raw and oozing . . . ._

"Yes." Rose couldn't guess what Lucy had heard—or how gory the details. "I'm sorry it happened," she said, "and I'm glad he'll recover."

"Me too." Lucy gave her another squeezing hug.

A throat cleared pointedly. It was Lily.

"C'mon, Luce, you pygmy python, let someone else have a turn to glom," she said.

Behind Lucy, Dominique huffed. "I was next!"

Dominique pouted almost as effectively as Aunt Fleur, but Lily was immune. " _Je m'excuse_ ," she said cheekily as she stretched up to hug Rose. She whispered, "He was here—and he'll be waiting."

Rose's heart leapt. Her dream wasn't from random stimuli. Scorpius had been there! That's why Lily made a commotion to see her. "I don't know how to thank you."

"I’ll think of something," Lily said. “Right now Dom's glaring daggers, ready to hex."

"All right." Rose was so happy she would've agreed to almost anything.

The next minutes passed in a blur. She talked to Dominique and Louis—or rather, they talked while she tried to listen and make appropriate responses while keeping an eye on the door.

When her dad walked in, Rose made a beeline for him. "Can I leave now?"

He nodded. "Everything's set. We'll use the Healers' private garden to Apparate." He hugged her as if she was fragile and kissed the top of her head. "I'll get you home, Rosie."

Her entire family escorted her through the corridors and down the stairs. Auror Davies and Lily trailing in their wake, chatting. Staff and patients stopped to watch their group pass. Rose averted her eyes from curious stares.

Her mum said, "It'll never stop being odd the way strangers are interested in your private life, but you'll get used to it." She looked at her husband, striding ahead, wand held ready. "We did."

A smile tugged at the corners of Rose's mouth. When she was little, her dad had barked, "No pictures!" at people so many times in restaurants, parks, and shops that she'd yelled, "No pitchers!" to family while celebrating her third birthday at Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour. She was still razzed about that from time to time.

On the ground level, they took a Staff Only corridor to the Healers' garden, an extravagant title for a small courtyard with tables and chairs and a few potted plants. After a round of goodbyes, Rose walked over to her dad and linked her arm with his. "Apparate with me?"

He winked. "Like old times. We'll beat them to the house and Hugo and your mum will have to do the washing up after dinner."

At Thornhill Square, Rose looked everywhere for Scorpius—the pavement; her neighbours' front gardens; across the street. Where was he? Didn't he see them? The sympathy on her family's faces tightened the knots in her stomach.

Dad patted her on the arm. "Aw, Rosie, don't fret. He'll turn up."

"Like a bad Knut," Hugo said. "No offence. It's just a saying."

Mum slipped an arm around Rose's waist. "Standing around indefinitely in July heat doesn't strike me as a Slytherin thing to do. Let's go inside and see if there's an owl."

Rose fought the urge to dig in her heels, to yell Scorpius's name and use a Sonorous Charm to make it carry. He'd told Lily he would wait for her. He had to be nearby.

She reluctantly followed her mum into the house and up the stairs to her parents' bedroom on the first floor. Pigwidgeon, old but sprightly in his octagon-shaped cage before the window, turned his head from the garden view and whistled a greeting as they approached. Even before her dad rolled the large cage to one side of the window, Rose saw that there was no messenger owl waiting on the outside ledge. She wasn't disappointed. It confirmed that Scorpius planned to see her; she just didn't understand why he waited.

"He probably hasn't had time to send an owl," Mum said.

Her dad's brow furrowed in thought. "Lucius Malfoy was still negotiating a deal when I left. He could have called Scorpius back to the Ministry."

" _How?_ " Hugo asked from his position near the doorway. "You've said Death Eaters couldn't cast Patronus Charms."

"That was a long time ago," Dad said slowly, as if it pained him to admit, "people can change."

"Not Lucius Malfoy. I've heard you and Uncle Harry talk. The Knights of Walpurgis pretend to be a social club, but they're really waiting for a new Dark Lord to follow." Hugo gazed at Rose, his jaw set. "I don't want you to end up one of their victims. Scorpius is decent, but his grandfather sure as hell isn't."

"I'm not saying Lucius is a good person," she replied. "I'm saying he sent us to the island hoping to break us up, not to put us in danger. He would never risk losing Scorpius."

"You hope."

She refused to argue anymore. Rose looked at her parents. "I'm still tired from that potion. I think I'll rest until Scorpius arrives."

"I'll turn down the covers," Mum said.

Rose was a little old to be tucked in, but if it made her mum happy.

Hugo smirked. "Want a mint on your pillow?"

"If she does, I'll bring it to her," Dad said. "You have washing up from breakfast to do."

Hugo turned puppy dog eyes on their mum. "Will you help me?"

"In a few minutes."

"I'll supervise until then," Dad said.

Rose smiled at the face Hugo made. As the youngest boy in his family, Dad had washed mountains of dishes without the aid of magic and enjoyed telling stories about his labour while he oversaw their work. Every year, the description of the layers of burnt food he'd scrubbed off pots and pans grew thicker and smellier.

Once she and Mum reached the second floor, Rose said, "I really am tired. You don't have to sit with me or anything."

"I'll only stay a moment."

In her room, she watched her Mum close the draperies to darken the room and then turn down covers with motherly precision. Rose hugged her in thanks. "I love you, Mum."

"I love you, precious."

The endearment—seldom heard after Hugo discovered  _The Lord of the Rings_ —misted Rose's eyes, blurring her view of the little-girl wallpaper with its pink climbing roses. She blinked away the moisture and saw something that snatched her breath away.

Instead of thorns, the vines sprouted delicate pale green flowers.

A flush bloomed along Rose's cheekbones. Scorpius was there! Lily had let him in to wait in her room. He'd seen her private things: her books; her childhood toys; her embarrassing princess canopy bed with its mound of frilly pillows and bed curtains of fine white netting.

"You shivered. I told Ronald he set the cooling charms on the house too low. I'll make a pot of tea."

Rose hastily slid into bed and pulled up the covers. "No, Mum, don't go to the trouble. I'm not thirsty. All I need is some time alone." With Scorpius. Rose closed her eyes.  _Oh Merlin, don't think about it, don't think about it, if I blush she'll think I'm feverish and never leave!_

"Very well, I'll wake you when Scorpius arrives, and if—for whatever reason—you want me to send a Patronus, I will."

"Thanks, Mum. Would you draw the bed curtains?"

"Of course."

Fabric scraped against wrought iron.

"Sweet dreams," Mum said.

Rose's pounding heartbeat almost drowned out the click of the door. She tried to control her breathing, to pretend she was sleeping, but her pulse raced so wildly it was all she could do not to hyperventilate.

She heard the faint rasp of fabric. Every nerve ending in her body tightened like a bowstring.

When lips parted hers in a kiss, Rose opened her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream . . . . The song from Disney's Sleeping Beauty has been in my head this chapter. It might seem Scrooge-ish to end at such a moment, but it felt right, and I'll just have to hope readers enjoy it enough to get me put back on the Nice list. ;)


	11. Discoveries

 

Time and breath suspended.

Her eyes were the blue of ocean depths, inviting him to sink into her embrace.

Scorpius hesitated. He was so adrenaline-charged; if the wizard handshake he'd given reactivated, he might not notice until pins and needles turned into excruciating pain.

Rose's mouth claimed his, drowning the voice of caution.

He leaned against the high mattress, one hand braced on her lace-edged pillow. He kissed her softly until her lips parted and her tongue teased his. Wonder that she was safe and in his arms became an ache to get closer. Scorpius climbed onto the bed.

Rose wriggled out from beneath the covers and twined her arms around him, drawing him down for another kiss. Her hands caressed his back. "Take off your shirt."

The sole of her foot slid along his calf, a silken reminder of how incredible her skin felt against his. Caution flailed its way to the surface to remind him they were in her parents' house, and an hour ago, she'd been in the hospital. "You might still be in shock."

"I've recovered. I'm not withdrawing from relationships, I want to move forward." She tugged at his shirt. "Help me."

He took it off. "Keep yours on."

"No." Rose started to pull up the hem of her t-shirt.

Scorpius grabbed her hands. "Yes."

She tried to yank free.

He pinned her to the mattress, keeping her hands captive as he raised them above her head. "This isn't a hammock, distributing weight. When I move forward—" His hips rocked against hers. "We're both going to feel it."

Her mouth trembled.

What the hell was he doing? Scorpius let go of her hands and rolled to the side. "I'm sorry. I—"

" _Volvo!"_

The spell took him by surprise, flipping him onto his back with Rose astride, her fingers linked with his on either side of the pillow. She kissed him forcefully. "Am I frightening you?" she asked between long kisses. She nipped playfully at his bottom lip and then licked it. "I don't think so." She sucked on his lip, and it was all he could do to lay passive when he burned to put his hands on her body.

Their next kiss was hungry and passionate, a melding of lips and tongues. Her thighs squeezed his sides.

_One hand free. Give me one hand . . . ._ The things he would do, the places he would touch.

"You didn't frighten me either," Rose whispered. "I love the way you feel." She relaxed her grip and started to draw back.

He lifted his torso in the fastest sit up he'd ever done and kissed her while reaching for the hem of her shirt.

She giggled. "Still want me to keep it on?"

" _Colloportus_ ," he said. The door locked shut. Rose wasn't the only one who could use wandless magic to advantage. " _Evanesco_."

Her shirt vanished.

So did her bra.

Scorpius instinctively raised his hands to cover what he hadn't consciously meant to expose. Pain blasted his right hand as if cold fire burned through the nerve endings. He couldn't move. Couldn't think.

" _Accio wand!"_  Rose cried.

Breath hissed through his teeth. His fingers twisted into a claw. If he opened his mouth, he would scream.

"Hold on," Rose said. " _Finite! Protego! Stupefy!"_

Red light flashed.

 

Scorpius blinked. His hand didn't hurt anymore, and he was lying in a bathtub. Ice cubes floated on the water. He shivered.

"The cold bath before the counter charm was my idea," a voice said. "Rosie wanted to hold you propped against the wall under the shower head, but I told her,  _no_   _way_  was I doing that, and no way was I trusting her after . . . whatever."

Scorpius turned his head to look at Hugo, who was sitting across the room on a spindly vanity chair. "Where's Rose?"

"With the Obliviators." Hugo's jaw dropped when Scorpius surged to his feet. " _Joke!_  She's getting chocolate to help you recover." Hugo grabbed a rolled towel from the basket next to the chair and threw it. "Merlin, you have no sense of humour."

Scorpius caught the towel with his right hand—a hand that showed no trace of damage. He used the towel to wipe his face and cast a charm to dry the rest of his body and swim trunks.

Hugo snorted. "Don't call me sick-o. You're the one drooling over my sister's towel."

There was no monogram; Scorpius had merely noticed the dark emerald colour matched her sheets. He said, "It was a Drying Spell.  _Sicco_. Pronounced see-co, not sick-o."

"Oh."

Scorpius hung the towel on a bar near the door. "Do we wait here?"

"You can go back to Rose's room." Hugo's tone made clear it was against his better judgment. He scowled. "Keep your hands off her, 'cause if she has to stun you again I'm telling Mum and Dad."

Fair enough. "Thank you."

"Rose was the one who used a Featherlight Spell to carry you up here. I only acted lookout."

_And thought of lowering my body temperature to counter the wizard handshake, and stayed with me while Rose went downstairs._

"I appreciate it."

Hugo shrugged, visibly uncomfortable with gratitude. "I didn't do it for you."

Scorpius nodded, although he hadn't been under the delusion Hugo's actions were gestures of friendship. He cast a Disillusionment Charm and left.

He found Rose's door ajar and slowly pushed it open, avoiding the handle Lily said was probably rigged to a silent alarm, if her Uncle Ron was as paranoid as her Uncle Bill. Scorpius didn't want to find out.

"Come on in," Rose said. "We're having a picnic of chocolate." She sat cross-legged on the bed; a tray with an enormous mug and an assortment of biscuits and chocolate bars rested on the white duvet patterned with vines and flowers.

He cast  _Colloportus_ to lock the door and winced as a dull ache pounded at his temples—the result of too much wandless magic. He countered the Disillusionment Charm. Another wandless spell. His headache intensified. "Is there any dark chocolate?" he asked.

"There's Espresso, mint, and Dark 85%," Rose said, reading labels.

"The last one." He sat on the edge of the bed and took the chocolate bar, but couldn't open it. The cocoa smell rising from the black wrapper turned his stomach. He set the bar aside and rubbed the heels of his palms into his temples.

The bed shifted.

"Lean back," Rose said. She guided his head onto her lap. "Every once in a while my Dad has a hangover after a poker night, and he says massage is the best remedy." She used her fingertips to press the skin above Scorpius's eyebrows, ran her hands through his hair, and then reapplied soft pressure slightly above the place she'd pressed before, slowly moving up to his hairline and then massaging his scalp.

"It feels amazing." Scorpius closed his eyes. Blissful minutes passed. Relaxed and drowsy, he said, "You're always taking care of me."

"Does that bother you?"

_Being vulnerable?_  "No, but I wish I could return the favour."

Rose's fingers halted their ministrations a second before her lips brushed his. The kiss was unexpected and sweet. "You will." She resumed massaging his scalp in relaxing, circular strokes. "I get at least two colds a year," she said with a smile in her voice, "and my perfectionist tendencies—as Lily likes to call them—lead to muscle tension from stress, so you'll have to give me massages."

"My hand's tingling at the thought."

She laughed. "I didn't mean  _now."_

He opened his eyes. "When?" It wasn't a fair question, asking for more than an opportunity to give a massage.

"Soon." Her gaze held a serene confidence he wished he shared.

Scorpius raised himself to a seated position. "My headache's gone. Thanks." He picked up the chocolate bar he'd dropped earlier. "Green and Black's," he said, peeling back the paper and foil. "This is Muggle-made?"

"Is that all right?"

He took a bite. The flavour was intense, not bitter. "It's Muggle-licious."

Rose groaned. "Oh, Merlin, I sounded like Hugo going on about the pizza."

"No, I was teasing." Scorpius broke off a square and extended it. "Here. You need this as much as I do."

She leaned forward, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

Jabs of pain coursed through his hand. Scorpius didn't care. The sensation of her mouth on his skin was worth it. He snapped off another bite of chocolate.

" _Rose?"_

It was her mother's voice, amplified with a charm.

"An owl just arrived with a message for Scorpius," Mrs. Weasley said. "I would have brought it, but the owl won't allow anyone else near."

"Sounds like Maleficus." Scorpius found his hiking sandals and shirt.

"How do you know it's for Scorpius?" Rose called to her mother. "If the owl—"

"The case is engraved with an M."

"Not the Malfoy crest?" Scorpius said in an undertone. "Grandfather's being discreet." He raised his voice. "Thank you, ma'am. We'll be right out." He smiled at Rose. "Ladies first."

She tossed him a knowing look along with his wand, taken from the dresser top.

The corridor was empty when Rose opened the door. She made a noise of frustration. "I hate it when she does that, makes you wait until you get to her room to talk. Mum thinks she's giving everyone a chance to 'compose themselves', when it's more like the long walk of doom." Rose heaved a sigh as they went down the steps. "Dad's yelling is easier to take."

Scorpius preferred rational discussion, so it was a relief to see Mrs. Weasley standing alone in a room with elegant furnishings and a cool palette warmed by boldly coloured paintings—and a Chudley Cannons pennant. She said, "Shh," to calm the scops owl flapping excitedly in his cage near the window.

The white-faced barn owl perched outside waited like a statue, unmoving, until Mrs. Weasley raised the sash. He hopped onto the windowsill and stretched out his leg for Scorpius to untie the message case. Unburdened, he flew away.

"That wasn't a family owl," Scorpius said in answer to Rose's questioning glance.

"It's an Auror Office special messenger," Mrs. Weasley said. "Except for the case. Silver isn't standard issue."

Scorpius extracted the parchment rolled inside the hollow.

 

**Your grandfather lent me his spare message case. I had to make sure it would only open for you. Take care of Teryn. If her Gran kicks her out she has nowhere to go.**

 

The address listed was on Edgar's street. Scorpius gave the message to Rose.

She said, "I'll come with you."

"Where?" Mrs. Weasley asked. "What's happening? I deserve an explanation."

Scorpius said, "I went to St. Mungo's and convinced Lily to let me in to wait for Rose. The note is from my friend, Edgar Goyle, who is worried about his . . . friend . . . Teryn—the girl the Knights brought to the island."

Mrs. Weasley read the note Rose handed her. "I meant the message, but thank you for clearing up the other matter, Scorpius. I'd guessed you'd levitated in through the window."

He was disarmed into honesty. "I thought you had wards inside and out."

"After today, we will."

Rose said, "Bar the windows for all I care, but I'm leaving."

Mrs. Weasley nodded, managing to exude brisk authority in faded denim. "We'll tell your father and have him bring round the car."

"Beg pardon?" Scorpius heard what she said; he just couldn't get his head around the idea of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley driving up to a Goyle slum house in their enchanted Muggle car. Would they stay in the Bentley? Join Rose on the doorstep, wands drawn, ready to protect her from the dodgier residents of the neighbourhood?

Mrs. Weasley said, "If Teryn has to find a new place to live, she'll need her things transported." She turned to Rose, her matter-of-fact tone softening into maternal concern. "You should be resting, not casting Shrinking Spells."

Rose looked his way. Scorpius said, "If your dad wants to help."

"He does," Mrs. Weasley said, "but you have to let me do the asking." She started to leave.

"When should we come downstairs?" Rose asked.

Mrs. Weasley's fleeting smile highlighted the resemblance between mother and daughter. "After the yelling stops."

 


	12. Determination

"Dad's a bit of a volcano," Rose said when her mum left. "He erupts and then calms down and becomes reasonable."

"No ash and debris burying everything in its path?"

She smiled. "His anger's more like a lava flow. The damage is limited."

" _WHAT?"_

Her dad's yell blasted through the house like an explosion of magma. Rose almost expected to hear fiery fragments batter wood as she shut the only door in the house warded against  _Alohomora_ and other unlocking spells. "See?" she told Scorpius. "Lava flows are slow enough for people to get out of the way."

Seconds later, footsteps thundered.

Scorpius arched an eyebrow. "He's moving fast. Are you sure this isn't a pyroclastic surge? Mount Vesuvius, Krakatoa, Mount Unzen . . . . "

Rose gave him a hug that was as much for her comfort as his. "Dad's hot air isn't lethal."

The storm of footsteps ebbed. A few seconds later, the door handle rattled.

"Open the door, Rosie."

Dad's tone was too restrained. Rose shivered. Why did Scorpius have to mention Mount Unzen, where an unexpected surge killed volcanologists and covered their corpses in ash? "That's not a good idea right now, Daddy," she said. "Help Mum make tea and we'll be down in a few minutes."

"I'm not going to hurt him."

She tightened her arms around Scorpius and replied, "I'd feel much more reassured if you went downstairs."

" _Rosie—"_

"It's his room, his house," Scorpius said. "We have to respect that." His lips curved wryly. "You can always cast a counter spell or a Healing Charm."

She reluctantly allowed him to pull out of her arms. Unpleasantly vivid scenarios flashed through Rose's mind in the time it took Scorpius to turn the handle.  _Scorpius opening the door to receive a punch in the face . . . reeling from a hex . . . Dad ordering her to her bedroom like she was a disobedient child._ She moved close, ready to defend her boyfriend and her right to be treated as an adult.

The door seemed to open with excruciating slowness. Her dad stood grim-faced in the corridor.

"I apologise for my actions," Scorpius said. "You've been more than fair about everything. I was wrong to assume you'd turn me away."

"Yeah, you were." Dad's gaze shifted to Rose.

"He was worried about me," she said. "I would've brought him downstairs."

_Eventually._

Her dad's expression remained stern. "This better not happen again. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." The next time she and Scorpius were alone in a bedroom she'd make sure it wasn't under her parents' roof.

Dad said, "About you helping that girl, I don't know the kind of people who live on her street. I won't put you in mortal peril twice in one day. Granny's heart can't take it."

Rose didn't want to hurt Granny Weasley, but she wasn't staying home. "I'll be safe if you and Mum come with us."

"Goyle doesn't let his slums to Dark wizards," Scorpius said. "They might get nasty when he doesn't fix a leak or increases the rent. His tenants are poor, not criminals." After a pause, he added, "Most of them."

"I don't have to ask how you'd know," her dad said. He looked at Rose meaningfully.

She shrugged. Lucius Malfoy was the kind of wizard who acquired information. So what? If he investigated her he'd find nothing more shocking than occasional public displays of affection with his grandson. "Then you'll drive us?"

Her dad's mouth tightened. After staring her down for a few moments, he turned toward the stairs. "Hurry up before I change my mind."

Relief made Rose giddy. She said laughingly to Scorpius, "I told you he'd be reasonable."

" _Ro-sie!"_

Dad's patience was wearing thin. She grabbed Scorpius’s hand and hurried out of the room.

 

The drive to Teryn's was silent. Before they left, Mum and Dad went over "the plan" to such an extent that Rose was afraid even a casual remark about the weather or Muggle traffic would trigger a new flood of parental admonitions.

It was easy to tell which home belonged to Gregory Goyle. Three times the size of the other terraced homes, it squatted like an overdressed matron sneering at her poor relations' faded, tattered clothes. It didn't make sense to Rose. Wouldn't maintained properties earn higher rents? She whispered the question to Scorpius.

The corners of his lips turned down. "It's worth more to him to feel superior."

In the front seat, her mum uttered a sound of indignation. "If these houses are up to code, my favourite colour's lavender."

Dad cleared his throat. "Jimmy Peakes is head of the Housing Office. I'll ask him to send an inspector round—with a couple of MLEs." He glanced into the rear-view mirror. "This isn't a safe neighbourhood."

Because the residents sitting out on their steps were as sullen and unkempt as their homes? She wouldn't be cheery either. "There's number seventeen," Rose said before her dad told her for the umpteenth time to stay in the car, cast a  _Protego_  charm, and wait for his signal to leave the vehicle.

They parked in front of the narrow, brown-bricked house. One of the upper windows had lace curtains. The other was boarded over.

Dad unfastened his seatbelt. "Stay put, Rosie."

Scorpius murmured, "Unless Granny attacks me with her cane. Then feel free to save me."

"I will," Rose said.

Scorpius and her parents climbed out of the car. Dad locked the doors with his Muggle remote, but thankfully didn't set the alarm with its embarrassing  _Beep!_ Scorpius rang the bell and then knocked when no one answered. The door finally opened. Rose couldn't see what Teryn's grandmother looked like, but she didn't whack Scorpius with a cane. They all went inside.

_Tap Tap._

"Aahh!" Rose jabbed her wand at the passenger window.

It was Teryn. A bruise mottled the left side of her doll-like face.

"Are you all right?" Rose asked as she left the car.

Teryn nodded. "Granny tried to hit me on the shoulder, the way she always does, and I moved the wrong way." Tears shimmered in her eyes. "It's my fault."

"No. She had no right to hurt you. _Ever_." Rose opened the front passenger door and reached into the glove box for the first aid kit her mum kept stocked for any emergency. "This will help," she said as she opened the tin of WWW bruise-remover paste. "It's the new and improved version, only takes minutes."

"The colour's lovely," Teryn said. She sniffled. "Edgar says liking yellow means I should've been a Hufflepuff."

"You do seem like a loyal friend." Rose applied the soothing paste as gently as possible with her fingertips. "How long have you two known each other?"

Teryn didn't answer right away, proving the faultiness of Edgar's colour theory. Rose liked green but didn't have enough Slytherin cunning to phrase a question so it seemed casual instead of prying. She was about to apologise when Teryn said, "Three years, since my father remarried and sent me to live with Granny."

"Instead of your mum?"

"She didn't survive the attack."

"I'm sorry." The facts were adding up to a disturbing conclusion. Teryn wasn't a recently turned werewolf. She was targeted for another reason: her relationship with Edgar.

"You didn't know," Teryn said. She flinched. "Granny's calling me."

Rose could faintly hear the shrill voice. More ominous was the loud popping noise behind them, the sound of Apparition. "Get in the car," she said and pivoted, wand outstretched.

A heavyset witch in traditional robes sneered at Rose from the kerb. "You're on my property, Mudblood spawn. Leave."

"I will." Just as soon as her parents and Scorpius returned.

Mrs. Goyle—the resemblance between her and Edgar was strong—turned a basilisk glare on the car's occupant. "Take that animal with you." She ground the words between her teeth. "If she returns she'll wish she had died on the island."

"You knew?"

"I didn't say that." Mrs. Goyle's gaze flickered toward the house. She Disapparated.

Rose's dad appeared a second later, followed by her mum.

Dad said, "You didn't stay in the car."

Mum said, "I'm sure she had good reason. What did Millicent Goyle say to you?"

"Get off her property. Where's Scorpius?" Rose asked.

"Packing Teryn's clothes. He was the only one her grandmother would allow upstairs," Mum said.

_Horrible, prejudiced old woman._  "I'll help him." Rose marched up the front walk and rapped on the door with the side of her closed fist.

"What do you want?" Teryn's plump, grey-haired granny stared at her with the cold eyes of a raptor.

Rose pushed the door open wider and stepped into an oppressively floral lounge. "I want you to give a witch's handshake never to harm Teryn physically or verbally ever again. If you don't, I'll have charges filed against you."

The old witch shook her cane in Rose's face. "Teryn would never—"

"She doesn't have to. The Wizengamot decides whether or not to prosecute offences committed in a family violence context, not the victim." Or so her mum had said, once, if Rose remembered correctly. She kept her tone low and steely. "A witch's handshake or Azkaban. Your choice."

"The handshake. I'm never going to see that ungrateful child again." Teryn's Granny extended a gnarled hand.

Scorpius descended the nearby staircase, his cool demeanour at odds with his white knuckle grip on the strap of a lemon-coloured holdall. "I'll stand witness."

When they left the house, Rose wiped her palm on her leg, but it didn't stop the skin-crawling sensation of having touched something nasty and foul.

Scorpius took her hand. " _Purgo,"_ he said and brought her fingers to his lips.

"Thank you." His kiss purified better than any spell.

They joined Teryn in the backseat of the car. Rose watched Teryn wrap her arms around the holdall as if contained treasure and asked Scorpius, "How did you fit all her things, is it a capacious bag?"

He shook his head and leaned close to say in an undertone, "She didn't have much."

That would change. Rose would owl Lily, and they'd take Teryn shopping.

Scorpius's lips grazed her ear. "I found a diary."

Rose's cheeks burned. She wasn't jealous that he'd read another girl's most intimate thoughts; it was the violation of privacy that upset her.

"I skimmed for information. I didn't  _read_ it read it," Scorpius whispered.

She believed him. Rose met his gaze and smiled a little. His eyes were smoky. Intense. Her face grew hot all over again.

"While you two gathered Teryn's things I invited her to stay with us," Mum said in a voice that reminded Rose of past car trips when she and Hugo had been on the verge of hexing each other. Mum's determinedly cheery tone had reminded them she was watching, and they'd better not fight. Now she was warning Rose not to snog Scorpius.

"I'll owl my father right away," Teryn said. "I won't impose long."

Rose told her, "You're not imposing. I'm glad we'll have the chance to get to know each other."

"I already feel like I know you—all of you," Teryn said. "I've seen your photos in the papers and read about you all my life."

"Don't believe everything they write about us," Rose's dad replied.

"Oh, I don't," Teryn said earnestly. "Only the good things."

"Thanks," Rose said. She understood completely why Edgar became friends with the girl. Her sweet personality would win over anyone who had the slightest bit of heart and decency.

Teryn didn't hesitate to put on a blindfold so she wouldn't see any street names or landmarks to identify where they lived. At home, Hugo stammered a hello and looked ready to burst with questions. Rose ignored him and showed their guest to the room where Scorpius had once stayed. 

"It's beautiful," Teryn said in a choked voice. Tears streaked her face.

"You're worried about Edgar, aren't you?" Rose went to the secretary desk bureau and pulled down the slope front to reveal the parchment and quills inside. "Write him a note. Scorpius can deliver it." When Teryn hesitated, Rose said, "I'm sure he's worried about you too."

A few minutes later, Rose left Teryn to try and get some rest. Scorpius and her mum were in the kitchen.

Mum held up a pitcher of lemonade. "Would you and Teryn like a glass?"

"She might. I need to talk to Scorpius."

"I wouldn't go upstairs," Mum said, "and your dad's with Hugo in the library."

The lounge was too open for privacy, so Rose led Scorpius to the only place they could be together behind a closed door: the downstairs loo. It was a tight space, but neither of them complained.

She gave him the letter. "I want you to tell him it's no coincidence Teryn was on that island. She's been on the werewolf registry for years."

"Since she was four and her parents took her camping at a park that had been in the papers for an earlier attack. Her father was knocked out, miraculously unharmed," Scorpius said. "They moved to a new town afterward, and a bigger house, where she had lots of toys and her daddy played with her every day because he didn't have to go to work anymore."

Rose's stomach twisted. "Teryn thinks he killed her mother for the inheritance?"

"No, I do. Terence Higgs got rid of his daughter when the new Mrs. Higgs was afraid a werewolf would offend their social set. Why not a woman standing between him and the life Slytherins are told they deserve?"

"Mr. Higgs was Slytherin?" Rose asked. "How do you know?"

"Grandfather paid him a hundred Galleons not to try out for Seeker my father's second year."

The year Lucius gave the team a set of Nimbus 2001s. Her father used the story to show money could buy some things, but it couldn't buy a Quidditch Cup. "Does Edgar know any of this?"

Scorpius's eyes became granite. "I'm about to find out."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone interested in reading about Scorpius's namesake (a toy Niffler) and little Draco Malfoy's first week at primary school is cordially invited to read The Walpurgis School for Superior Children (first chapter posted today). :)


	13. Conversations

 

Grim-faced Aurors escorted him to an interview room with an openly displayed two-way mirror. Scorpius saw Edgar sitting with his back to the door. The view of concrete block was uninspired but better than giving observers facial clues to analyze.

"Five minutes," growled the Auror with a moustache.

"Fifteen," Scorpius said. "We have a lot to talk about." He looked at the younger, clean-shaven Auror. "Ask Harry Potter for permission again if you like."

"No, uh—"

"He has better things to do." Moustachioed Auror thrust open the door.

Scorpius went inside and picked up the chair facing Edgar. Once he carried it around the table to sit next to his friend, he said, "I thought you'd be out of here by now."

Edgar shrugged. "Legally, they can hold me twenty-four hours without pressing charges. If they didn't interrupt naps to go over my statement it wouldn't be half bad." After a few moments of silence, he said, "So are you going to tell me, or are you going to make me ask?"

Scorpius could toss back the same questions. "Teryn's with the Weasleys for now. I packed her things, including a diary with  _very_  familiar handwriting." A sideways glance caught Edgar's flush. "Your pen friend wasn't Marianne Willoughby."

"Never said she was."

"Never said she wasn't, either."

Edgar smirked.

Scorpius got the point. He wasn't the only one who let people assume what they pleased. "What do you plan to do about her?"

"Marianne? Nothing. She'll break the betrothal."

Scorpius arched an eyebrow.

Edgar said, "Teryn's father has money. He'll support her."

"Will he?" Scorpius told Edgar what he'd read in Teryn's diary. "What if her father's been spending her inheritance? He may decide to ensure she never finds out."

"I'd kill him first."

It was a rash statement to make in a room where conversations were amplified if not recorded. "That won't be necessary. A trust solicitor and Magical Law Enforcement can deal with Higgs," Scorpius said. "The Knights are the ones to worry about. Teryn wasn't a name off the registry like the others. They targeted her."

Edgar glanced away. "Father's in jail. She won't be in danger."

"Not from him."

"Not from anyone." Edgar's fists clenched. "I won't see Teryn again."

Scorpius believed his friend would try to keep his vow—and fail. "You've said that before."

Edgar scowled. "You read what she wrote about me?"

"I skimmed for information." Why anyone thought he'd be interested in melodrama and gushing romance for its own sake he had no idea. "Teryn cried herself to sleep every time you said you couldn't risk being caught anymore and drew hearts and flowers when you owled and changed your mind."

Edgar averted his gaze. "I felt sorry for her. She doesn't have other friends."

"And on the island? What did you feel when you saw Teryn's face? Were you  _sorry_ for her?" Scorpius didn't allow time to answer. "Did you know what was going to happen? Would you have saved a victim who wasn't pretty and in love with you?"

"Of course I would!" Edgar surged to his feet and stood over Scorpius, eyes blazing. "I'm not my father!" He backed away. "I can't believe you asked."

Scorpius jerked his head toward the mirror. "They needed to hear it. Why do you think Aurors keep going over your statement? You stonewalled them. Don't tell me you didn't. You told them so little they couldn't decide whether to make a deal or charge you as an accessory."

Edgar shook his head. "I won't testify."

"You shouldn't have to." Scorpius heard the door open and called out, "It hasn't been fifteen minutes."

"That's even more impressive. Have you considered Auror training?"

The voice held no trace of mockery.

_Fighter against evil and a career counsellor too!_  Scorpius stood to face Harry Potter. "The world doesn't need another Super Wizard."

Potter said, "A brave man once told me fighting the Dark Arts is like fighting a many-headed monster, something unfixed and mutating. There will always be a need for heroes—whether or not they become inspiration for wizard comics."

It was Scorpius's turn to be impressed. He tried not to show it. "Is that your recruitment speech?"

"No."

"You should use it. It'd be effective with Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs."

"They don't need recruiting. I'm looking for more diversity."

_Don't look at me._ "I'm here for Edgar. You don't need his testimony to get a conviction. Let him go."

"That can be arranged." Potter turned his serious gaze on Edgar. "Once you answer a few final questions."

Edgar nodded curtly.

"With his solicitor present," Scorpius said.

"Of course. You can stay until Pritchard arrives."

"Thank you." Scorpius waited for Potter to leave to remove the letter from the inside pocket of his swim trunks. "This is from Teryn."

"Tell her you couldn't give it to me."

Scorpius unfolded the parchment. "Very well, I'll read it to you.  _Dearest—"_

Edgar snatched the letter out of Scorpius' hands. His expression was stony but the way his eyes travelled down and flickered up gave away that he read and then reread the message. "Tell her not to worry about me, to take care of herself. I'll be fine."

"You tell her."

Edgar crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it back. "I'm not like you, able to do whatever I like. I have obligations."

To his parents and the Knights of Walpurgis—it was a toss-up who was worse. "Leave the Knights. They'll want to distance themselves from your father. It's the perfect opportunity. You can—"

"—be disinherited. The Knights stand for everything my family believes in. I'll have nothing."

"You'll have friends. Work for Malfoy Enterprises."

"No."

"Then work with me. We'll start our own business." The more Scorpius thought about the idea, the more he liked it. "I don't give a damn about being a Potions Master. I was only going to Wales to avoid conflict."

Edgar snorted. "Wishful thinking." After they resumed their seats, he asked, "What kind of business?"

They talked over possible ventures from real estate to a Quidditch Agency until Pritchard and several Aurors came into the room

"I'll be in touch," Edgar said.

 

Scorpius left through the employees exit to avoid reporters and Apparated to his parents' London flat. The doorman's eyes widened over his attire, but the man greeted him with deferential politeness. His mother and father greeted him like he'd returned from war: Mother crying and both of them hugging him as if they needed to feel that he was safe and unharmed. He apologised for not owling.

"Your grandfather told us what happened." His mother gave him another squeezing hug. "We're so proud of you." She wiped her eyes and glanced toward his father, who said, "Beyond proud. Words can't express."

Emotion brought a lump to Scorpius's throat.

His mother put a hand on his arm and patted it. "Are you hungry? Mr. and Mrs. Stevens are at the market, but I can make a snack to tide you over until dinner."

"I'd rather have a shower.”

"Of course. We brought clothes, just in case."

"Stop by the guest room on the way," his father said. "Your grandmother's resting, but she wants to see you, and I'm sure it would stabilise her blood pressure better than any potion."

"Yes, sir." He walked through the lounge awash with filtered light from the terrace and down the corridor to a room fit for a snow queen. His grandmother lounged against a satiny mound of white pillows, reading a magazine.

She saw him and held out her arms. "Darling! You're almost  _tan!"_

"Grandfather sent me to the Caribbean." Scorpius sat on the edge of the bed and leaned down to kiss her cheek and have his kissed in return. Her hand against his cheek felt cold. "I hope you haven't worried about me."

Her blue eyes snapped. "Draco told you about my blood pressure, the naughty boy." She waved away the topic. "The instant I learned you were safe my  _stress level,_ or whatever Muggle-sounding nonsense they call it, magically improved. I'm resting to humour everyone." She pointed to the gilt bedside cabinet. "Have some of my Belgian chocolate. The aroma alone is enough to counter Dark magic."

He thanked her and ate a piece of chocolate although he didn't need the medicinal properties. Later, after he'd showered and dressed, Scorpius sent an owl to Rose, confident its message would bring a smile to her face. He'd stay in London, and they wouldn't have to wait for weekends to see each other. They could be together every night.

Mrs. Stevens served a four course French dinner out on the terrace—the most casual meal Scorpius had ever eaten with his grandparents. No one spoke of what had happened on the island. The atmosphere was relaxed and pleasant. Almost dreamlike. He found himself listening for the rustle of wings.

"You look tired. Why don't you go in and rest?" his mother asked.

Scorpius went to his room and lay down. It seemed he'd just closed his eyes when a touch on his shoulder jolted him awake. He stared up into his grandfather's face, barely visible in the shadows, and realised the long summer evening had become twilight. "Was there an owl for me?" he asked, sitting up.

Grandfather engaged the bedside illumination orb and handed him a folded sheet of parchment. "Pritchard delivered the letter."

Scorpius read it and cursed. Edgar's mother was ill from the strain of all that had happened. He couldn't betray her like his father. He had to stay, and he hoped his friend would understand.

"Did you know about this?" Scorpius demanded.

Grandfather took the letter and scanned it. "I had suspicions." He tapped a finger against the ending sentences. "This part about a business. What does it mean?"

"Nothing."

"I disagree. If it means you realise you'd be wasting your time mouldering in Wales, it means everything," Grandfather Lucius said. "It means you can work for me."

 


	14. Choices

 

Rose tried to keep busy when Scorpius left. Staring out the window wasn't going to magically conjure an owl. Scorpius had to talk to Edgar and then see his family. When he had time he would send a message.

She sat with Teryn in the lounge and answered questions about Hogwarts and what it was like to cast spells. Hugo, astounded that their guest had never listened to a Quidditch match on the wireless, explained the intricacies of the sport and then brought down some of his memorabilia collection so Teryn could see the difference between a Quaffle and a Bludger.

"No playing ball in the house," their mum said as she entered the room with a tea tray loaded with sandwiches, cheddar cheese straws, and chocolate biscuits. She gave Hugo a chiding look when he grabbed a plate and several sandwich quarters.

"I know my manners," Hugo said. "It's for our guest." He looked at Teryn. "You like roast beef, right? My Uncle Bill does so I figured you would."

Teryn nodded. "I've read about Bill Weasley. Is he really . . . wolfish . . . as they say?" She put a hand to her mouth as if the words sprang out without permission. "Beg pardon. I shouldn't have asked. It was rude."

"No," Hugo said. "Uncle Bill wouldn't mind. He says if the  _Intruder_  calling him part werewolf makes people sympathetic and less prejudiced, he could care less if they think he howls at the moon."

"He does have an amazing sense of smell," Rose said. "In the hospital he could tell I'd changed bath toiletries. I didn't smell like a rose anymore."

"You don't?" Mum had a  _why didn't I notice that_ expression on her face. "What are you using now?"

"A scent with oranges and green, growing things," Teryn said. "It smells like summer."

"Stinks like Malfoy," Hugo muttered.

"What did you say?" Mum asked in a dangerously calm voice.

"Nothing. Bad joke." Hugo piled cheese straws on Teryn's plate and added several chocolate biscuits.

"Only take what you want," Rose said when Teryn stared at the mound of food wide-eyed.

Hugo assembled his own pile of snacks. "She can eat it all. Werewolves have higher metabolisms, I read about it when I was doing an essay for Professor Bell." He plopped down on the sofa between the girls. "Don't they?" he asked Teryn.

"Yes." Her cheeks reddened.

Rose almost kicked Hugo. Didn't he realise Teryn was self-conscious?

Hugo didn't act like it. He said, "Wish I had a higher metabolism. I'd eat a whole pizza by myself."

"I've never done that." Unexpectedly, Teryn smiled. "Be fun to try."

" _MmHmm_!" Hugo said around an enormous bite of sandwich.

Mum handed Rose a plate of snacks. "I'm suddenly in the mood for Italian. We'll order lasagne for dinner." She sat in the chair closest to Teryn's end of the sofa and asked her, "Do you like lasagne? Franco's has penne and rigatoni if you prefer something else."

"I like lasagne," Teryn said. "Gran says foreign food is bad for digestion, but I had it with my dad once. It came with chips."

Hugo's face lit up. "Was the lasagna flipped over so the cheese and sauce dripped onto the chips? Dad and I—" He broke off, glanced at Mum, and then said, "Dad and I  _used_ to have that at a place on Endell Street until, we, erm, started making better nutritional choices." He shoved an entire biscuit in his mouth.

Mum's lips curved. "Franco's doesn't serve chips, but they have excellent garlic bread."

The conversation turned to favourite foods, and then Hugo asked if Teryn had ever played wizard chess. She hadn't, so he dragged her off to the library to show her how brilliant it was. Rose went along and watched Hugo explain the moves with a patience and humour he'd never shown any of their younger cousins. Once the two began an instructional match, Rose went upstairs to take a shower.

It didn't occur to her until she took a sundress off its hanger in the wardrobe that her new toiletries were in the cave on the island. She didn't want to use the rose-scented collection stored beneath the vanity sink. Briefly, she considered borrowing Hugo's stuff, but the fresh-cut grass smell of Quidditch Pitch shampoo and soap didn't appeal to her.

Rose picked up her wand and crept up the steps feeling naughty and sexy. She opened the bathroom window. " _Accio_ Scorpius's soap!"

She put up her hands to catch the bar when it sailed in. It popped out of her grasp and landed on the floor with a thump. Rose stared at the water on her hands. The soap was wet! She might have stolen it while Scorpius was lathering up, sweeping the creamy bar across the firm, smooth, musculature of his arms, his chest, his stomach . . . .

Rose bent to pick up the elegantly carved soap. How silly to envy an inanimate object. She inhaled deeply. Along with the clean, crisp fragrance of soap was a scent that flooded her mind with memories of languid hours swaying in a hammock, kissing Scorpius and drinking in the warmth of his skin. She released a ragged breath. If sniffing the soap brought up mental images that made her heart pound, what would using it do? She set the soap on the porcelain ledge of the bath and stripped off her clothes, eager to find out.

The water temperature adjusted to lukewarm—cold for a subtropical island—brought back moments with Scorpius beneath a rainfall shower. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. The sunlit blue sky she remembered vividly soon faded in her mind's eye, replaced by another image.

_Rain drummed against the glass of a skylight._

" _The view will never match the one on the island, but London has advantages that more than compensate." Scorpius's lips kissed the curve of her neck._

Rose opened her eyes. Scorpius's ensuite bath at his parents' flat didn't have a skylight, and she'd never flipped through  _Wizarding Homes and Gardens_ -type magazines in Healers' offices. Where had the vision come from?

She quickly finished showering and returned to the library. Teryn and Hugo were sitting side by side on the floor with their backs to the wall of shelves. Rose wasn't surprised to see the abandoned chess board; she wouldn't have been able to concentrate enough to play either.

"This was my first spell book," Hugo said. "I don't see why you can’t do the basic ones without a wand."

"Really?" Teryn asked breathily, as if hardly daring to believe it was possible.

"Yeah." Hugo cleared his throat. "I'd be glad to help."

"I'll help, too," Rose said.

Teryn jumped to her feet. "Thank you! You've all been so kind. I hate to impose."

"You aren't," Hugo said. "Tell her, Rosie."

"We need to practice wandless magic, too," Rose said. "But that can wait. Would you like to go take a shower?"

"And Mum thought _I_ was rude," Hugo said.

"I'm not saying she needs a shower for hygiene."  _You idiot._

"Then why?"

"It's relaxing."  _Until someone annoys you_. "Relieves stress."

Hugo snorted. "Didn't do that for you."

Rose pressed her lips together to keep from telling him to shut up. Hugo was being Hugo. She shouldn't let him get to her.

Teryn said, "A shower would be wonderful."

After Rose showed Teryn the way to the bathroom, she returned to the library. Hugo sat at the mahogany desk that doubled as a family game table,  _The Standard Book of Spells_  open in front of him.

He tapped his quill against a piece of parchment. "I'm making a list of spells for defence. They're more useful than householdy ones."

Rose took a seat across from him. "Teryn might not be of age to work magic. I never—"

"She's seventeen," Hugo said. "Not much older than me."

The satisfaction in his voice revealed a deeper interest than friendship.  _And I thought you were being nice because you felt sorry for her._  "She's involved with someone," Rose said.

"They aren't going together. I asked."

"That doesn't change the way she feels about him."

Hugo shrugged. "I liked Chou Davies, but she didn't feel the same way about me. I got over it."

"This isn't the same."

"Sure it is."

_No it isn't._  Rose bit back the retort. Hugo's Patronus was a bulldog for good reason: he latched on to ideas and didn't let go. She tried to coax him out of his stubbornness. "Listen."

"I heard you the first time." Hugo pulled the book of spells closer and started to read—or pretended to read.

The set of his jaw triggered memories of past quarrels. Her stomach twisted. She wanted to save him hurt, and he saw her as a know-it-all big sister. Rose pushed to her feet. If she hexed Hugo with a Full Body Bind he'd still turn a deaf ear. Someone else would have to talk sense into him: maybe Lily.

She left the library determined to send an owl as soon as possible. Upstairs, she found Pigwidgeon's cage empty. He was off delivering a message. Rose decided to lie down on the bed and rest while she waited.

She awoke when a hand rubbed her shoulder.

"Sweetheart, there's a letter for you."

Rose sat up and looked past her mum to the vacant window.

Mum handed her a cream-coloured envelope. "Not all messages need replies."

Rose read the letter. "Scorpius wants to stay in London and go into business with Edgar." Her chest and throat tightened. The Knights of Walpurgis might let Edgar go, but his mother wouldn't. Mrs. Goyle needed him—and hated Teryn.

_Take that animal with you . . . if she returns she'll wish she’d died on the island._

Mum sat beside her. "Maybe Edgar had a change of heart."

Or he pretended to go along with the idea, falsely raising Scorpius's hopes. Tears prickled Rose's eyes. She leaned her head against her mum's shoulder, drawing in the comforting scent of vanilla and strawberry. "How long did I sleep?"

"Long enough for your father to get hungry. He and Hugo left a few minutes ago to pick up dinner."

"What about Teryn?"

"She's in her room."

"Sleeping?"

"Reading."

"Oh." There went her reason to wait. Rose couldn't use the need to write Lily to delay, either. Pig hadn't returned from his travels. She reluctantly stood.

Teryn opened the door so quickly it was obvious she'd been pacing.

Rose blurted out Scorpius's message.

Teryn's expression clouded as if she didn't believe Edgar would leave his family business either.

"Scorpius might deliver a letter from Edgar when he visits," Rose said in an attempt to cheer.

Teryn shook her head. "Edgar has loads of responsibilities now. He won't have time."

The resignation in her voice sparked something dangerous in Rose. "He'll make time."

Hope glimmered in Teryn's eyes. "You think so?"

"I really do."

Rose used the excuse of washing up for dinner to go to her room. She sat cross-legged on her bed, wand in hand, and closed her eyes to concentrate on the memory of Scorpius's smile as he told her, "I love you" for the first time. She lost herself in the breathless wonder of the moment until its magic gave her the power to cry, " _Expecto Patronum!"_

Her Patronus shot out like a rocket. She'd go see Edgar in person if he ignored her message, but she didn't expect that to be necessary.

Confidence lifted her mood until dinner. She picked at her lasagne while Hugo sat next to Teryn and volunteered to show her every sight she hadn't seen in wizard and Muggle London. Then he suggested Teryn work with him at WWW over the summer to gain job experience. Rose didn't think they were bad ideas. She could get a group of cousins together to keep Hugo in check on any outings, and Uncle George and Dad would keep a protective eye on Teryn. What annoyed her were the gloating smirks Hugo continuously shot across the table.

She acted as though the taunts didn't bother her, but when her dad suggested they eat dessert in the lounge and play parlour games, Rose said, "I'm going to see Scorpius." Why wait for him to visit her? She'd get him to teach her his invisible Stinging Hex right after she snogged the air out of his lungs.

"Can I have your Tiramisu?" Hugo asked.

Rose silently cast a spell. "Take it," she said.  _Enjoy the bitter espresso!_

 

Stevens answered the door. Even in a Kelly green bib apron he appeared the model of a major-domo. "Good evening, Miss Weasley. A pleasure to see you again." He led the way to the penthouse's reception room.

Scorpius's parents and grandmother greeted her warmly.

Astoria hugged her. "We're so thankful you're safe."

Draco said, "What happened on the island was beyond criminal. It was an affront to human decency, and it will never happen again."

"Lucius will see to it," Narcissa said. Regal in white dress robes, she flicked her fingertips toward the archway leading to the bedroom corridor. "He'd tell you himself, but he's having a chat with Scorpius."

"Nothing that can't be interrupted," Astoria said meaningfully.

"That's my cue," Draco said with dry humour. He gestured for Rose to lead the way. Once they stepped into the corridor, he said, "I truly regret what happened on the island."

"You didn't know," Rose said distractedly. Scorpius's bedroom door was open, and Lucius Malfoy stood just inside.

Lucius saw her and cried, "Miss Weasley! How  _delightful_ , you'll be the first to hear the news."

She stopped in her tracks.

Draco asked, "What news?"

"Scorpius is joining Malfoy Enterprises."

"No," she said. Scorpius planned to go into business with Edgar.

"No," Draco echoed, almost despairing.

Lucius's smile widened triumphantly. "Yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The place on Endell Street (between Holborn and Covent Garden) I used for Ron and Hugo's lasagne and chips gorge-a-thons is Diana's Diner, referred to affectionately by one restaurant reviewer as "Dodgy Di's." I saw a photo and liked the look so I used it. If anyone's been there, let me know.


	15. Changes

 

Scorpius heard Rose's name and froze. What was she doing there?

Grandfather Lucius, with his perverse gift of saying the worst thing at the worst moment, gleefully announced Scorpius's decision to join the board of Malfoy Enterprises.

"No," Rose said.

His father echoed her protest.

Scorpius laid a hand on his grandfather's arm to stop him from making the situation worse. "I need to speak with Rose," he said. He'd talk to his parents later.

Grandfather chuckled. "Of course." He strolled down the corridor. "Come along, Draco. We're  _de trop."_

Rose marched into the bedroom stormy-eyed, cheeks dangerously pink.

Scorpius shut the door. "Let me explain."

" _Finite Incantatem!_ "

The force of the spell rocked his head back. "Rose, wait."

" _Exsolvere! Liberatis! Patefacere!"_

He had to stop her before she gave him whiplash.  _"Expelliarmus!"_ Scarlet light blazed.

Rose's wand flew out of her hand as the spell thrust her backward onto the bed; arms flung wide, legs splayed.

Scorpius climbed onto the duvet. "Are you all right? I wanted to stop the counter charms, not . . . this . . . ." Her skirt, bunched around her hips, posed a dilemma. If he enjoyed the view he deserved a hex for his thoughts, but if he reached out to pull the skirt down, she could get the wrong idea and hex him.

A shiver danced along his spine—the aftershock of a nonverbal spell. "I'm not under enchantment," he said. Not by magic, anyway.

"You wouldn't be aware of it if he used multiple charms." Rose sat up and tugged her skirt to cover the tops of her thighs. "That's the point, to make the victim believe he's acting out of his own free will."

"I'm not a victim." He spied Edgar's letter on the chest of drawers and retrieved it. "Read this."

Rose's expression became even more troubled. "I'm sorry Edgar turned down your offer, but that doesn't mean you have to work for your grandfather. You can find another partner, or go into business for yourself."

"Why?"

She stared as if debating whether to summon her wand and blast him again.

Scorpius said, "Why start a business? To make money?" He stood in a room filled with sleek Italian furniture and modern art, with a wardrobe of hand-tailored clothes.

"You would have done it for Edgar."

True. "Because it would've meant something. It would've made a difference."

Rose's face softened. "You can still help people. The Ministry—"

"Can increase diversity somewhere else. No offence to your uncle, but Auror Training can't help me do what I need to do."

"What are you talking about?" Rose climbed off the bed. "I didn't mention Uncle Harry."

Scorpius repeated what Potter said at the Ministry. "I apologise. I shouldn't have assumed he owled your father."

"He probably has by now." Rose moved closer. "What do you need to do?"

"Learn everything I can about the Knights of Walpurgis." Scorpius saw Rose's eyes flicker to her wand on the floor. He picked it up and tossed it onto the duvet. "I know how I sound, but hear me out before you fling spells again. Please."

She perched on the edge of the bed within reach of her wand.

Scorpius remained standing. Where to start? "The island made things real in a way they weren't before." Back when Grandfather read the long-ago deeds of Knights as Slytherin Tales and bad things happened to other people. "Father said the Auror Office keeps the Knights in check, but they don't. They can't. They don't know what to look for."

"You don't either," Rose said. "You're not one of them."

"Yet." Scorpius lunged to grab her wrist before she could snatch her wand. His legs turned to jelly. She'd jinxed him! He let himself topple forward instead of using a counter spell. Her softness broke his fall.

He put his lips to her ear. "You didn't hear me out."

"I heard enough." Rose tried to wriggle out from under him.

His weight held her pinned. "Listen to me," he said. "Listen! If I work for Grandfather they'll believe I'm reconsidering knighthood. I'll have access to people and information. If there are other victims, I'll find them."

"The Knights won't trust you."

She thought like a Gryffindor. The Knights were Slytherin. "It isn't about trust. It's about pride and greed. I'm Grandfather's heir. I'll inherit Malfoy Enterprises."

Rose shook her head. "Your father—"

"Would sell everything if he had the chance. He'll get the manor, but I'll be the majority shareholder. Grandfather told me so I'd know what I'd be working for." Scorpius's legs steadied; Rose had released him from the jinx. He let go of her wrist and pushed to his feet.

Rose stood. "Where do I fit into your plan?"

"Everywhere," he said. "I can't do this without you."

Her face remained guarded. "They'll want you to break up with me."

Did she really think he might consider it? "They'll want me to become a Knight, too, but I won't. I'll never play by their rules." He looked into her eyes. "I'll  _never_ give you up."

"What if it's not an option?"

"They can fuck off." When her lips parted in surprise at his language, or to reply, he kissed her. He cradled her face in his hands and continued kissing Rose until he stopped wanting to make a point and started to imagine her on the bed with her skirt pushed up, watching him kiss her legs. He eased back from temptation. "We'll find another way."

She gasped and turned—a reaction that alarmed Scorpius until he saw the Patronus otter on the bed. It stood upright to deliver its message and then vanished.

"Mum said Teryn got a letter from Edgar. They can hear her crying, but she won't open the door." Rose's face started to crumple. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have pressured him to owl her. I should have waited."

"You were helping a friend."

Rose's mouth turned down at the corners. "And now she's locked herself in her room."

"Because of Edgar. Not you." Scorpius wrapped his arms around her. "I have to talk to my parents and then I'll come over."

"Thanks." Rose leaned into the hug.

Scorpius closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair. "Your parents bought D'Orange Vert?"

Rose gave a nervous-sounding laugh. "I love the way it smells." She dropped her arms. "May I use your loo before I go?"

"Of course."

Rose sidled over to the bed and picked up her wand before heading into the ensuite bathroom. He frowned. Something was wrong. She acted like he'd caught her in a lie.

A few seconds later, he heard a  _THUD_  followed by a faint but distinct, "Damn!"

Scorpius knocked. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." Rose opened the door. "I can't say the same for your soap." She held out a misshapen lump. "I either gave an extra flick or the oils have specific properties a general  _Reparo_ charm can't quite replicate." She bit her lip. "I'm sorry."

He glanced at the open window. "You borrowed my soap?"

The colour in her cheeks deepened. "Last time you were glad."

_Easter holiday . . . Rose in a towelling robe, pressed against him . . . ._  "I still am." He trailed his fingertips where he'd kissed, along her jaw line and down her throat. "I wish I could show you how much."

She placed the lump of soap on the countertop next to the marble wash bowl. "Me too."

Scorpius escorted her to the lift. In the lounge, his parents and grandparents called out their farewells to Rose. Grandfather Lucius's "Goodnight, Miss Weasley," rang with wicked cheer.

"You made him happy," Rose said as they reached the foyer.

"He likes getting his way."

She pressed the lift button. "Don't we all."

Scorpius couldn't read her tone. Was she angry? The lift doors slid open. He asked, "What would happen if you had your way?"  _Would I begin Auror Training? Become an advocate for magical creatures?_ He gazed at the mirrored panels inside the lift. Their multiple reflections symbolised multiple possibilities.

Rose said, "You have to do what's right for you." She stepped into the lift. "Just remember you're not the Green Knight."

"I'm not trying to be," Scorpius said, but Rose didn't hear him. The doors had shut.

He returned to the lounge.

Grandfather beamed. "Scorpius! The wizard of the hour. Join us."

"I need to speak with Mum and Dad in private."  _You've gloated enough for one night._

"Mum and _Dad?"_ His grandmother turned accusing eyes on her husband. "He sounds like a Weasley. You promised they wouldn't influence him."

"I like it," Astoria— _Mum_ —said. "It brings back memories."

"Of a boy. Scorpius is a man," Grandfather said.

"He's still our son." Draco rose from the sofa. "We'll talk in the library."

The library adjoined the master suite; his parents loved to read. Scorpius sat in one of the leather club chairs grouped around a low, circular table. Across from him, his parents exchanged a look and then his mum said, "I'll do it if you want me to."

Scorpius shifted uneasily in his seat. Do what? Interrogate him?

His dad said, "Let's do it together."

No. They wouldn't. Scorpius leaned forward. "Listen."

" _FINITE INCANTATEM!_ "

The combined force slammed his head against the back of the chair.

Scorpius groaned. "I called you Mum and Dad to avoid this." He rubbed his neck. "You were supposed to know I wasn't coerced. That I made my own decision."

His parents had the grace to look abashed.

His dad rallied first. "You had decided to be a Potions Master," he said. "Not to work for Malfoy Enterprises."

"The plan changed."

"Lucius told us," Scorpius’s mum said grimly.

He could imagine the insinuations. Grandfather fancied himself a puppet master pulling strings. "No matter what he said, believe me, I took the offer for my reasons, not his."

"We'd like to hear those reasons." His dad smiled a little. "Ease our worried minds."

_I wish I could_. All his life, Draco Malfoy had done his best to protect his family from harm. He wouldn't stop because his son was of age. If Scorpius confessed his plan to investigate the Knights and help their victims, his dad would go straight to Lucius—or worse, Harry Potter.

"I want to stay in London," Scorpius said. "Rose is here. My friends are here."

His parents traded another one of their speaking glances. Mum's asked for understanding. His dad seemed reluctant.

"You've never shown interest in Malfoy Enterprises before," his dad said.

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings."

"Scorpius." Mum's tone rebuked.

"He's being honest," his dad said. "I appreciate it. I never had that freedom." He told Scorpius, "I'll be equally honest with you. Despite his promises, I don't trust your grandfather not to try and use this . . . opportunity . . . to sway you to his views."

"If he does," Mum said. "Come to us. We'll deal with him."

"I—" Scorpius couldn't say, "I will." He couldn't lie. "Thanks, Mum."

Her eyes misted. "We won't use any more counter spells. You don't have to call us Mum and Dad anymore."

Scorpius got up and walked over to kiss her cheek. "I want to."

She gave him a watery smile. "Lovely people, those Weasleys."

 

Scorpius left to visit Rose. He called a goodnight to his grandparents as he strode through the lounge.

Grandfather trailed him into the foyer. "Take this for the crick in your neck." He held out a glass vial filled with a clear liquid. "How many counter charms did they hit you with?"

"Only one." Rose had cast the other five _._ Scorpius drank the pain relief potion. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Will you be coming into the office tomorrow?"

_Did your parents talk you out of working for me?_

Scorpius answered both questions, spoken and implied, with a shake of his head. "Not for a few weeks." He pressed the lift button and the doors glided apart.

Grandfather said, "Still on holiday, are we?"

The doors were closing as Scorpius replied, "If Rose says yes."

 

 


	16. End

 

Rose didn't go straight home. She couldn't. There was something she needed and until she got it, she wouldn't be able to help Teryn or anyone else. The only problem was where to get it. If she went to the source he'd tell Dad or Uncle Harry about her visit. The Burrow was out of the question for the same reason, and the Diagon Alley shop was too close to WWW.

She conjured up a cloak and made her way to Knockturn Alley.

Other wizards travelled the cobblestone street with hoods pulled tight to shield their faces. Rose followed their lead and ignored the vendors who cried out for her to buy wares ranging from aphrodisiacs to poisonous candles. She darted past Borgin and Burkes and a pub named The Sleazy Kneazle to reach a shop tucked beneath the overhang of the Black Rose Apothecary: Warlock Comics.

Inside, dingy white walls provided a backdrop for the comic book art displayed above the racks. Near the till counter, a young shop assistant with the store logo embroidered on his robes arranged comics in a bin marked Back Issues. Rose glanced around, hoping to spot what she needed without having to ask for assistance. A poster caught her eye. It showed a cloaked wizard standing on a rooftop looking down at a city. The deep, forest green of his cloak was the only splash of colour. Everything else was a shade of grey.

"It's for sale if you're interested," the shop assistant said.

She gazed at the poster. The hood of the Green Knight's cloak concealed his profile, but she had no trouble imagining a chiselled jaw and perfectly shaped lips. "How much?"

The price quoted would take almost every Galleon she carried. If she bought the poster, she wouldn't be able to afford comics.

"It's a limited edition, near-mint, with Dennis Creevey's autograph on the back."

"I'll take it."

The shop assistant beamed, obviously thinking he'd persuaded her with his salesmanship. She recognised him: Jimmy Blishwick, a sixth-year Slytherin caught meeting his girlfriend after curfew the night students returned from Easter Holiday.

Jimmy removed a WWW Handy Ladder out of a pocket and set it on the floor. As it expanded, he leaned it against the wall and climbed to retrieve the poster. "I'll put this in a carry tube."

"Thanks." Rose followed him to the till counter. "My boyfriend is a collector, but I—I haven't actually read many comics. Most of what I know about the Green Knight my cousins told me while we played, erm, action figures." She tried to make her voice lower than normal, huskier, like the voice she assumed to play the Enchantress. "I understand why he works under the cover of darkness, but why does it always has to be that way? Why can't things change?"

"Cause he's not Super Wizard," Jimmy said. "The Green Knight makes his own rules, helps Aurors on his terms, not theirs."

"You admire that."

"Don't you? You're buyin' his poster."

"It's a work of art." She handed over Galleons and picked up the tube. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Anytime." When she turned to leave, he said, "Did you and Malfoy tell anyone about me and Bridget playin' hide-n-seek?"

_So much for concealing identity._  "No." Rose and Scorpius had left the incident off their patrol report and later returned to the dungeons to play a few rounds themselves.

Jimmy grinned. "Ace."

 

Rose hurried home to find Hugo lurking on the front step.

"Where have you been?" He blocked her way when she tried to move past him. "Mum sent her Patronus ages ago. Don't you care that Teryn's upset?" His eyes narrowed. "What's that you've got? A present from Malfoy? You better not have gone shopping."

" _Stupefy!_ "

Inside the house, the sound of water rushing from a tap drew Rose to the kitchen.

Her mum rinsed the carafe of a French Press coffee maker. "The grounds leaked through the filter. I told you this method required a precise degree of coarseness."

"I blame the coffee grinder," Dad said.

"You adjusted the setting."

Her dad's sheepish expression changed to concern when he saw Rose. "What's wrong, love?"

"I put a Body Bind on Hugo."

"Aw, Rosie, love, I'm sorry." Dad hugged her. "He was driving me spare asking when you'd get home, so I sent him outside to wait. It worked when he was little. He'd get bored and fall asleep."

"Ronald!" Mum seemed torn between laughter and disapproval. "I never knew you did that."

"What did you think I used? Sleep Charms?"

Mum's mouth hung open for a couple of seconds. "Not necessarily." She kissed Rose's cheek. "We'll have a talk with him about emotional sensitivity while you check on Teryn."

Dad said, "And we'll wait to counter the Body Bind so he has to listen."

Rose dredged up a smile. "Thanks." She turned toward the guest bedroom and stopped short when Teryn walked out.

"I have really good hearing. A werewolf thing, I guess." Teryn's eyes were puffy and red-rimmed from crying. "Can we talk in your room?"

"Sure." Rose led the way. "If the noise is bothering you, there are spells—"

"It isn't that," Teryn said. "Your door was open when I came downstairs after my shower, and what I saw reminded me of the room I used to have when I lived with my father. Pretty with flowers."

Rose remembered what Scorpius discovered in Teryn's diary.

_They moved to a new town afterward, and a bigger house, where she had lots of toys, and her daddy played with her every day because he didn't have to go to work anymore._

"Do you want to move back there?" Rose asked. She set the poster carry holder on the bed.

Teryn said, "Even if I did, my stepmother wouldn't allow it." She gestured to a jam-packed bookcase. "Edgar says Scorpius can out-read a Ravenclaw. I bet you can too."

"The first and second years, maybe. What else does Edgar say? Mum told me he sent a letter."

Teryn's lips trembled.

Rose went over to hug her and experienced deja vu. It was almost like what had happened in the kitchen, except this time she was the one who needed to apologise. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. Scorpius said Edgar turned down his offer. Mrs. Goyle—"

"Hates me," Teryn said. "She thinks I'm an animal _."_

"Edgar doesn't. He's your friend."

"Not anymore." The misery in Teryn's eyes was more pitiful than if she'd burst out crying. "Here. You can read it." Teryn removed a crumpled letter from her jeans pocket.

"Are you sure?"

"I want you to."

Rose smoothed out the parchment and read:

**Don't send another letter to my home. If you are in need of further charity, ask Scorpius Malfoy for assistance, or apply for benefits through Werewolf Support Services.**

"She made him write that," Teryn said in a choked voice. "Edgar never gave me money,  _never_ thought of me as a charity case."

"I believe you," Rose said. She reread the letter. "Do you normally owl him at home?"

Teryn shook her head. "His mother watches for the post, so he owls and tells me where to meet him. I only wrote the note earlier because I was worried, and you said Scorpius would give it to him."

_Ask Scorpius Malfoy for assistance._

"It makes sense now," Rose said. "There's a hidden meaning." She went over to her desk for a quill. "When I strike through the parts that aren't true, look what remains." She held out the letter.

"Don't send another letter to my home. Ask Scorpius Malfoy for assistance." Tears rolled down Teryn's face. "I've been so scared that his mother used Memory Charms and he didn't care for me anymore."

"I doubt anything could make him stop caring. You're one of the nicest people I've ever met." Rose conjured a handkerchief.

Teryn wiped her eyes. "You're nice too. You must have lots of friends."

"Not close ones. My family . . . and I was a Prefect . . . ."

"People see what you are, not who you are. I understand."

Of course she did. Too many wizards and witches were like Mrs. Goyle. There was nothing cheery about that subject, so Rose turned the conversation to books. They were discussing  _Jane Eyre_  when a knock sounded.

"Sorry about what happened, Rosie," Hugo said through the door.

She let him in. "I'm sorry I cursed you."

"Next time just tell me to bugger off." His gaze slid to Teryn. "Is everything all right?"

Teryn said, "Yes, thank you."

When Hugo seemed content to smile at the girl indefinitely, Rose asked, "Was there anything else?"

Hugo's bulldog brown eyes gained a puppyish sparkle. "Yeah. Want to play cards?" He told Teryn, "We have Happy Wizarding Families and Exploding Snap."

"I thought Mum lost the Snap cards," Rose said.

"Dad bought new ones. They're German, with extra pyrotechnics, but we'll have to say  _Schnapp."_

Teryn said, "I've never played that before. Gran told me it was dangerous."

"Nah. Singed eyebrows grow back." Hugo waggled his brows.

"Most people have the sense not to lean over the cards," Rose said.

Teryn smiled. "I’ll play."

"Have fun,” Rose said. “Scorpius is coming over. I think I'll wait."

Hugo made a face but had enough tact not to point out that the library was closer to the front door.

Once she was alone, Rose sat on the bed and unrolled the Green Knight poster. The vividness of the artwork made it easy to picture herself on the rooftop next to the dark hero. "You've complicated my life," she whispered.

He didn't answer. Her imagination wasn't that good. She hid the poster beneath her mattress.

" _Rose._ "

She scrambled away from the bed.

" _Come to the back garden."_

Rose giggled in relief. Scorpius's voice came from a projection spell, not an enchanted drawing. Merlin, she'd never doubt the power of imagination again. She used a Disillusionment Charm and snuck downstairs, tiptoeing past the library and through the lounge until she reached the French doors.

Her family's garden was a rectangular stretch of lawn with low maintenance trees and shrubbery. At the far end, lit by solar fairy lights, was the only item of whimsy: an octagon-shaped summerhouse where she and her cousins once played and held tea parties for dolls and stuffed animals. Beyond the Georgian windows, Rose caught the flicker of blue light. Her heart pounded at the thought of Scorpius waiting, beckoning.

She Apparated.

He stood with bluebell flames cupped in an outstretched palm. "I think I wanted an excuse to touch you that night in the courtyard." The dancing flames jumped from his hand to the ends of her hair.

Rose shivered as Scorpius's fingertips brushed her cheek and trailed down her throat.

The flames leapt back onto his hand, creating a pool of light that cast his face into shadow. "Nothing's changed."

"You're wrong." She twined her arms around his neck. "You don't need excuses anymore, and I'm not hiding how I feel about you." She settled her mouth on his, pressing closer when his lips parted and moved against hers. Sometime during the kiss his hands slid down her back and extinguished the flames. The darkness made her bold.

Scorpius groaned. "We have to talk."

The back of her leg pressed against one of the two wide armchairs that had replaced the original child-sized furniture. "Sit here." She guided him to the chair and sat on his lap. A night vision spell enabled her to see his eyes. They glittered like rubies. She gasped. "How long—"

He kissed her, making love to her mouth with his lips and tongue. His hands cradled her face; her fingers tangled in his hair. She shifted to straddle him, and he grabbed her hips.

"Don't."

"Is it the Wizard Handshake?" She hadn't thought it would affect him in the garden.

"No." He smiled wryly. "It would be easier to explain if there was a little more . . . distance . . . between us."

She pushed to her feet. "Better?"

He rose to his feet like a vampire, with magnetic, fluid grace. "I'm not the Green Knight," he said. "I don't have an obsession to fight crime because criminals took my parents' lives. I'm not trying to save the world. I want to help the victims of a group my family has supported and funded—"

"Is that what you told your parents?"

Silence. "I couldn't."

"And that means I can't tell my family, either, because the Green Knight always works alone, hiding his identity to protect the innocent."

"Not alone. I told you I can't do this without you.  _Lumos Maxima!_ "

The summerhouse blazed with light.

Rose put a hand up to shield her eyes. "What are you doing? Anyone could see us."

"Let them. I'll do whatever it takes to show I won't hide anything from you."

"Not even to protect me?"

His lips curved. "I've tried that before, remember? I won't make that mistake again." He gave her a searching look. "Can you keep secrets for me?"

He knew her family would question why he was working for Malfoy Enterprises, question why she dated someone who associated with members of the Knights of Walpurgis. "Yes."

Scorpius didn't try to hide his relief. "I told Grandfather I wasn't going into the office for a few weeks yet. Let's forget everything else. Go on a true holiday."

Her parents wouldn't like it. Dad would try to force her to wear a WWW "Teen Trust" tracking bracelet. "Where?"

Scorpius's dimple made his smile even more compelling. "Anyplace you want to go."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter's the epilogue (of this story, not the series, happily).


	17. Epilogue

 

_Two weeks later . . . ._

 

Paris. Zanzibar. The South Pacific. Of all the places in all the world, Muggle or wizarding, Rose chose the one guaranteed to hinder romance, limit privacy, and ensure his fantasy of making love on a beach continued to remain a dream for the future.

She chose Cornwall.

Her family had talked for months about gathering at Shell Cottage to camp and enjoy a week's holiday together. Rose thought it was the perfect opportunity for everyone to get used to them being a couple. Scorpius doubted that would happen, but since he'd promised "anyplace" he showed up on Rose's doorstep, rucksack in hand, at the appointed date and time.

Hugo answered the door, a sullen figure in a blaze orange Cannons t-shirt. "Don't see why Teryn can't come along if you're going."

_Good afternoon to you, too._  "I believe she and Roxanne are minding the shop for your Uncle George this weekend."

"Have you seen her?"

Scorpius lifted an eyebrow. Two days prior, Hugo had helped Rose and Scorpius move Teryn into a flat near The Leaky Cauldron.

"Guess it hasn't been that long." Hugo continued to block the doorway. "You never said how you found a place with a safe room for a werewolf that Teryn can afford on a shop assistant's wages. Her father didn't send any money."

"I hired a realtor." That Tracey Nott had facilitated the purchase of Teryn's building as well as his new flat in central London was none of Hugo's concern. Scorpius saw Rose's mum walk into the entry from the lounge, clipboard in hand and called out, "Good afternoon, Mrs. Weasley."

"Good afternoon." Her distracted smile became a frown. "Hugo, don't keep a guest on the doorstep. Let him in and go bring your bag downstairs, please." She checked something off a list and went into the dining room, presumably en route to the kitchen.

Hugo backed into the entry and stumbled over a capacious bag placed next to a mound of luggage. He glared accusingly.

"If I'd cast a trip jinx you'd be on your arse," Scorpius said.

Hugo tromped upstairs.

Before Scorpius could shut the front door, Rose's dad pulled up to the kerb in the family's enchanted Bentley. A window slid down. "Why is the front door open? Are you trying to Coolant Charm the whole world?"

"No, sir." Scorpius closed the door.

Ron Weasley entered seconds later, wearing sunglasses that gave him the air of an off-duty Auror about to arrest a suspect. He grabbed the handle of a suitcase and tossed a bag to Scorpius. "Help me load the car."

Outside, Ron opened the Bentley's storage compartment. "Did you pack a tent?" he asked when Scorpius put his rucksack in with the other luggage.

Scorpius nodded. Stevens had assured him it was top-of-the-line but not ostentatious.

Ron lowered his sunglasses to stare Scorpius in the eye. "No matter how big it is, it's a one-man tent. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," he said, although, technically, if Rose shared it with him it would still be a one-man tent.

"Don't forget it." Ron strode into the house. "Rose! Hugo! Make it snappy. I don't want to end up with a pitch near the cottage." His voice lowered, yet Scorpius heard him clearly. "Someplace ridden with spiders."

Scorpius decided to wait on the pavement beside the Bentley. He heard a clatter, and then Rose came out of the house wearing a strapless dress that left a lot of leg on show. He admired the contrast of golden skin and cream-coloured cotton printed with tropical flowers.

She manoeuvred carefully down the steps in high-heeled sandals. "If I twist an ankle I'm going to hex Lily. She made me buy these to match the dress."

"Remind me to thank her."

Rose smiled.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley exited the house, followed by Hugo. Ron carried Rose's green-striped capacious bag, Hermione carried a picnic basket, and Hugo dragged a lumpy black duffle.

"He always brings Quidditch gear," Rose said.

Scorpius opened the car door.

Rose scooted to the middle of the backseat and giggled when he strolled around to the passenger side of the car and climbed in. "Hugo's going to pout. He always sits behind Mum. There's more legroom."

"I know."

Rose was still laughing when Hugo plopped down beside her and complained that she'd let her boyfriend take the best spot.

Hermione twisted in her seat to give Hugo a reproving look.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "He's our  _guest."_

Ron started the Bentley and turned on the radio. Wizard rock made the silence less awkward as they zoomed through traffic, magically squeezing between and around slower vehicles. When they reached the onramp to the M4, Ron hit the Invisibility Booster and the Bentley gained speed and altitude, flying to Cornwall as the crow flies.

Scorpius reached for Rose's hand and closed around her wrist instead. Something rasped against his skin. "Are you wearing a bracelet?"

"Hair elastic. Dad yelled, and I forgot to put my hair in a ponytail."

He used their entwined fingers as a starting point and trailed his free hand up her arm. "Allow me."

"How can you fix her hair? You can't see her," Hugo said.

"In my mind I can."

Rose turned slightly. Her hip pressed Scorpius's thigh. He gathered her hair in one hand and bent to kiss the curve of her left shoulder.

Rose sighed. "Other side."

"I'm going to be carsick," Hugo muttered.

Scorpius kissed her right shoulder and felt the hair band tap his nose.

"That's not what I meant," Rose whispered.

He imagined the blush on her cheeks as he swept her hair into a ponytail. "Isn't it?"

"Merlin's twisted knickers," Hugo said.

The music volume suddenly lowered.

"What was that?" Ron asked.

Hugo groaned.  "Are we there yet?"

 

By the time they reached Shell Cottage, Scorpius had decided riding in an enchanted car was the equivalent of lounging on a flying sofa. Not that sitting next to Rose with a bird's eye view of the countryside lacked charm, but if he ever bought a Muggle vehicle it would be something faster and sleeker, like a flying motorbike.

"Look, Fleur conjured up a lawn," Hermione said. "That's a relief. There's nothing worse than sand in a tent."

"Except spiders in a tent," Ron replied.

Scorpius leaned forward to see the cottage. "Interesting architecture."

"Instead of stone, the walls are oyster shells," Rose said, "and large scallop shells shed water far better than ordinary roofing tiles."

Ron turned off the Invisibility Booster, so Scorpius could see Rose's affection for the cottage in her eyes as well as hear it in her voice. "I'm not questioning the builder's logic," he said.

Hugo snorted.

"What?" Rose asked.

"Nothing." He smirked at Scorpius. "Don't ask me to nominate you for a hairdressing award."

Rose lifted a hand to feel the ponytail that was high but off-centre.

"I'll do it again," Scorpius said.

"No. It's fine. Can't be improved." Hugo jumped out of the car as soon as the Bentley landed on a stretch of golden sand.

On the lawn next to the cottage, five tents formed an almost complete circle.

"Harry and Ginny saved us a spot next to theirs," Hermione said. "Away from the house."

"Brilliant. Let's make camp before the sun goes down." Ron used a Locomotor spell to send their baggage floating.

Scorpius grabbed his rucksack when it drifted by. "Where do I set up my tent?"

Ron gave him a stern look. "In the centre."

The family pouring out of the tents and the house to greet them diverted attention and allowed Scorpius a moment to regain composure. He would prefer a pitch on a sand dune over the middle of the camp.

"Come on," Rose said. "It doesn't have to be dead centre."

Scorpius pretended not to notice the stares as he and Rose ambled across the lawn. Lucy and Lysander raced over to say hello. They had pink cheeks and wind-tousled hair.

"Where are your toads?" he asked them.

"Holidaying in Granddad's pond," Lucy said. "They don't like salt water."

Lysander said, "And the crabs in the rock pools might pinch them."

"You'll come rock pooling with us, won't you?" Lucy asked. She looked at him sorrowfully. "Our mums and dads don't want to."

"They know low tide is at the crack of dawn." Rose tickled her cousin. "You've been taking conniving lessons from Lily, haven't you?"

"Did I hear my name taken in vain?" Lily walked up and hugged Rose. She grinned at Scorpius. "I love what you've done with Rose's hair. What kind of tent did you bring? Ours is the khaki boring one that looks like a Muggle Eurotent. I bet yours is swish."

"All I know is it expands from a box," Scorpius said. He looked at Rose. "Tell me where to set it up."

She led him to a spot near her family's tent. "Where's Albus?" she asked Lily.

"Saying goodbye to the girlfriend. Merry's going to play cello with her dad on the Weird Sisters' summer tour, leaving tomorrow."

Scorpius dug into his rucksack and pulled out a small storage box. He set it on the ground and pointed his wand at the lid. " _Aperio!"_

The box opened and white canvas sprang upward and outward to form a tent shaped like an enormous white trumpet flower placed on a gigantic fairy cake.

"Ruddy hell," someone said.

Scorpius's thought exactly. He opened the French doors. "Who wants a tour?"

Lily tugged Rose inside. Lucy and Lysander dashed after them. Scorpius took one look at the pale wood floors and white furnishings accented with blue and realised Grandmother Narcissa had "helped" Stevens choose the tent.

In the bedroom, Lily cried, "Mossie nets! Chandeliers! This isn't camping, it's glamping. I'm horridly jealous."

"I think it's lovely," Lucy said.

Rose sat on the four poster bed. "Would we have had one of these in Lapland?"

If they'd gone on a simple romantic holiday instead of one that changed their lives? "A Mongolian tent, I should think."

"It probably wouldn't have had a hammock."

"No."

Rose ran a hand over the silky duvet. "I'm glad we went to the island."

"So am I."

Lily put her arms around Lucy and Lysander. "All right, cousin dears, time to help me search for the chocolate Aunt Fleur hides in a kitchen cupboard."

Once he was alone with Rose, Scorpius said, "I wouldn't change the time we spent together, trade the good that came from what happened, but if I could do one thing over, I wouldn't run after Edgar. I'd stay with you."

"I know."

Only a rising murmur of voices prevented him from kissing her.

One of the voices yelled out, "Scorpius? It's Dominique.  _Maman_  and the aunts want to see your tent. Is all the family welcome to have a tour?"

He asked Rose, "Do you want to stay here or take a walk?"

"Walk."

Scorpius used a voice projection charm to tell the women to come in.

Rose slipped her arm through his. "Hold on."

Magic squeezed the air out of his lungs, pulled him into darkness, and then thrust him onto a beach. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere we can enjoy the sunset without interruption."

Scorpius glanced at the terra cotta and pink sky before concentrating on what he truly enjoyed: kissing Rose. The cool breeze gave him an excuse to pull her closer and keep her warm by caressing her bared skin.

The sun had almost slipped beneath the horizon when they returned to the cottage. Enchanted torches and fairy lights strung from one tent to another illuminated picnic tables grouped together within the grassy circle.

Lily waved for them to join her, Hugo, Lucy, and the Scamander brothers at a table near Scorpius's tent.

After a dinner of chicken and herb roasted potatoes, everyone packed into the kitchen to make coffee, chat, and clear away the dishes. Scorpius, overwhelmed by the family togetherness, retreated to the dining room to cast dry cleaning spells on the linen serviettes.

Halfway through the stack, Rose's Aunt Luna drifted into the room. "You were awfully brave to leave the protection of the group," she said. "Pixies abducted a witch in Cornwall once. Dymphna Furmage was her name."

"When was this?"

"The seventeenth century," she said as if it had happened the week before.

Scorpius doubted that pixies got the urge to abduct a witch or wizard every four hundred years like clockwork. "I'll remember," he said.

"Yes, I've heard that about you." Aunt Luna meandered out of the room.

Scorpius finished cleaning the serviettes and went to the kitchen to find Rose.

Granny Weasley said, "Hugo, Fred, and Teddy carried her off to the lounge."

"She probably bribed them to get out of polishing the cutlery," Lily said. She tossed a fork onto a velvet-lined tray. "Wish I'd thought of it."

In the lounge, Rose sat on the sofa surrounded by her brother, male cousins, honorary cousins, and soon-to-be cousin by marriage. Lupin, sprawled next to Rose, was the first to notice Scorpius. "We were discussing a few of the week's activities. Rock climbing, cliff jumping, surfing, kayaking, and gorge walking."

"Sounds athletic," Scorpius said. "Does everyone participate?"

"Most of us," Lupin said. "You in?"

"I'll try to keep up."

Hugo said, "Told you he wouldn't want to laze around building sandcastles, Rosie."

"So you did."

Scorpius asked dryly, "Does that mean there's no sandcastle competition?"

Rose said, "There's always a sandcastle competition, and a kite flying competition, and family Quidditch matches, and family charades."

"Never a dull moment," Lupin said.

Rose stood up. "I'm really tired. I'm going to turn in early."

Scorpius said, "I'll walk you to your tent."

"Are you going to come back and play Exploding Snap with us?" Lysander asked.

"Another time. I need to rest up for all the adventure ahead."

They walked through the empty kitchen and said goodnight to her parents, grandparents, aunts, and uncles chatting around the fire pit on the patio. As they strode across the torch lit lawn, Rose pointed to a tent that glowed brightly with illumination orbs. "Dominique and Victoire volunteered to give all the girls French manicures."

"Nice of them."

"Yes, it is. They're all nice—even when they're overprotective and managing. Everyone's nice except me." She halted in the shadows next to his tent. "I went to the apothecary for birth control potion a week ago. I should have told you. I shouldn't have waited to prove to my family how wonderful you are. It shouldn't matter what they think. I love you, and if they don't approve, that's too bloody damn bad."

The tip of her wand glowed, revealing the tears on her cheeks. "I'm sorry I made you come to Cornwall when you don't want to be here, kayaking, and cliff jumping, and sleeping in separate tents."

His heart thudded against his chest. "What are you saying?"

"I want to be with you. Anyplace you want to go."

"Tonight?" His mind raced with the possibilities. "I can Apparate us to London."

"I'll get my bag and leave a note."

 

_One hour later . . . ._

The tent fit into the lounge of his empty penthouse flat with room to spare.

"White canvas, dark wood floors. You could start a design trend."

Rose's voice sounded nervous. Scorpius felt a bit tense, himself, with anticipation and all that. He said, "I prefer standard furniture, although I'm in no hurry to shop."

"The view's amazing."

She could see the city lights better if she moved further into the lounge. Scorpius searched for a way to put her at ease. "You should see the skylight in my en suite bath. It isn't the same view as our outdoor shower, but—"

"Show me." The breathy demand in Rose's voice had nothing to do with nervousness.

A smile spread across his face. "Now?"

Her eyes sparkled like starlight. "Now."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter fourteen is where Rose had her "daydream" about Scorpius's shower. Although her mother would be skeptical about thoughts of showering with Scorpius being a vision of the future, I leave it to readers to decide whether it was Sight or serendipity. ;) Thanks so much to everyone who has left kudos or comments. I hope this ending has left you looking forward to the beginning of the next story: The Green Knight Rises.

**Author's Note:**

> I’d never watched more than an episode or two of the show Lost, but while sitting in a doctor’s office, an Entertainment Weekly magazine with cast members on the cover gave me the idea for the holiday switch. Elemental fiends are from Final Fantasy, and Lars Balto is a mosh of two Sami explorers, Samuel Balto and Lars Monsen. If anyone who reads this hasn’t read Our Little Secret, I hope I introduced the characters and plot in a way that makes this fic stand on its own while making you want to read the first story. : )


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